


Albus & Scorpius: Year One

by pravenclaw



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-11-14 05:25:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11201370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pravenclaw/pseuds/pravenclaw
Summary: An imagining of Albus Potter and Scorpius Malfoy's first year at Hogwarts. Heavily inspired by Philosopher's Stone. Cursed Child compliant.





	1. The First Hogwarts Express Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How I imagined Albus Potter and Scorpius Malfoy's first Hogwarts Express journey. What they talked about, who they saw and spoke to, etc. 
> 
> Takes place between Act One, Scene Three and Scene Four of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child. Heavily inspired by Philosopher's Stone Chapter Six - The Journey from Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.

‘Yes, well, we probably should sit somewhere else. Come on, Albus,’ said Rose. She made a grab for Albus’s arm and started to gently drag him towards the door. Albus shook his head.

‘No. I’m okay. You go on…’

‘Albus! I won’t wait,’ said Rose, making daggers at her cousin.

‘And I wouldn’t expect you to!’ said Albus. ‘But I’m staying here.’

Rose paused a moment as Albus sat down on the seat opposite the pale boy. She glared down at Albus, who looked defiant, and then at Scorpius, whose gaze was fixed somewhere on the floor. Rose’s hand was still suspended in the air, still in the lost grip she had on her cousin. Her arm fell and her face changed.

‘Fine!’ she cried, and with a swish of her brand new robes Rose Granger-Weasley was gone. The compartment door slid shut behind her. The noise it made seemed to pierce the air, like a sharp ringing bouncing from wall to wall in the tiny train compartment. Eventually the sound died away, giving way to the soft buzz of the Hogwarts Express rolling on. Albus could hear shouts and shrieks and laughter from other compartments, but his was a calm, friendly quiet. Had Rose found someone to sit with? He hoped she had. Perhaps she had found James or one of the others to sit with. She got on much better with them anyway. A feeble voice broke through Albus’s thoughts.

‘Thank you,’ said Scorpius. He didn’t look Albus in the eye when he spoke and his whole body looked uncomfortable. Scorpius’s shoulders were hunched up, practically touching his neck, and one hand was held in a shaky fist while the other was tugging aimlessly at the sleeve of his robes.

‘No. No. I didn’t stay – for you – I stayed for your sweets,’ blurted Albus. Albus knew it sounded harsh, and of course he didn’t mean it, but it was better than saying he had stayed because he too was lonely. On the inside, anyway. Thankfully, Scorpius looked up and laughed. The two boys looked across the compartment at each other, and everything was understood.

‘She’s quite fierce,’ said Scorpius pointing at the compartment door after Rose.

‘Yes. Sorry.’

‘No. I like it. Do you prefer Albus or Al?’ said Scorpius, a wide grin appearing on his face. Albus thought a moment before answering.

‘Albus,’ he said confidently.

Scorpius rose to his feet and popped a couple of Pepper Imps into his mouth.

‘Then, THANK YOU FOR STAYING FOR MY SWEETS, ALBUS!’ he shrieked as magnificent smoke blasted out of his ears.

Scorpius collapsed back onto his seat in a fit of high squeaky laughs. Albus laughed too, though he covered his mouth for fear the Pepper Imp smoke would catch at the back of his throat and make him cough. However, the air soon cleared and Albus could see Scorpius opposite him once more. He was holding onto his stomach and wheezing, his shoulders bouncing with every giggle.

‘Another one of my Mum’s things. She does that whenever I’m upset,’ said Scorpius. ‘Not that you look upset!’ he quickly added. ‘You look rather happy actually! Good – smiley. It was just to break the ice, I suppose.’ Scorpius looked away from Albus. His ears had turned a bright shade of pink and his eyes had drifted over to the window. Albus looked out too. The trees were flying past in a blur of yellow and green now they were well out of London. Scorpius was scratching the seat with his short, half-chewed fingernails.

‘No, you’re right,’ said Albus smiling. ‘It was funny.’ Scorpius smiled in return, but offered no further conversation.

Houses flashed by the windows as the Hogwarts Express carried on northwards. Albus felt awkward in the silence, it wasn’t something he was used to. He looked out at the large clouds as they sailed by, every now and then looking at the blond boy opposite him. Scorpius seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, though every now and then his hand would fall to the seemingly forgotten book beside him. He’d grip it, then let go, in two minds whether to pick it up. _Hogwarts: A History_ , read the cover in large golden writing. Albus took a deep breath.

‘So, your mum. Was she in – ’

‘Slytherin, yes,’ said Scorpius rather too quickly. ‘My whole family have been in Slytherin, but I think you know that. It’s been well documented.’ He let out a pathetic laugh, his expression remained gloomy. Scorpius looked at Albus sincerely with his stony-grey eyes.

‘But she’s one of the good ones,’ he said. ‘Dad too, but you know...’

Albus nodded. He did know.

‘Do you have any brothers or sisters?’

‘No. It’s just me.’

‘Oh cool! Sometimes I wish I were an only child,’ said Albus. ‘I have such a big family. There’s loads of us.’

Scorpius widened his eyes with something more than interest. There was real envy there too.

‘I’m one of the youngest. There’s James and Lily, my brother and sister. Victoire – she’s the eldest of my cousins – She’s just been made Head Girl, and she’s Quidditch Captain too. The whole Gryffindor Quidditch team is practically made up of my family. Molly is a Prefect, and now Dominique’s one too. Lucy’s really clever, she always gets good marks and stuff, and James, Louis and Fred mess around a lot, so everyone loves them. Roxanne’s hoping to become a Beater this year. Oh, and of course there’s Rose and her younger brother Hugo. That’s all of them,’ said Albus, finally taking a breath. ‘You could say I’ve got a lot to live up to.’

Scorpius nodded, though he didn’t look overly surprised.

‘Nine cousins. Wow. Twelve grandchildren. I bet your grandparents love Christmas and birthdays.’

‘Granny Weasley loves having a big family,’ said Albus. He couldn’t help but look downbeat.

Albus and Scorpius both looked up as a group of burly sixth years raced by their compartment. The whole carriage shook as they went, all laughing hysterically. After a few moments they came back, red-faced, all walking sensibly in the direction in which they had come. Some were looking sheepish while others still had sniggers on their faces. At the back of the group was a tall girl with silvery-blonde hair. She was beautiful with large blue eyes and a petite, delicate-looking face. Her lips were a warm shade of coral, and a gleaming Head Girl badge was pinned to her chest. She glared after the disruptive students, but had a somewhat wild glint in her eye. Her hands were placed firmly on her hips. When they had found their compartments, the blonde girl turned and beamed at Albus. He smiled back, and Scorpius smiled too.

‘Are you alright?’ mouthed the girl through the glass.

Albus nodded.

The girl gave Albus a big thumbs up and pointed down to the bottom of the carriage. She shot a friendly smile at Scorpius, waved and left.

‘That was Victoire,’ said Albus, a smile still etched on his face. 'She’ll be in the Prefects’ Carriage.’

‘So that’s Victoire,’ said Scorpius. ‘It’s rumoured she’s part-Veela,’ he squeaked.

‘Yeah. Victoire, Dom and Louis all make heads turn. Aunt Fleur too. I’d hate that.’

‘Me too. I get enough odd looks as it is.’

Albus had never met someone so much like him before. There was something familiar there whenever their eyes found each other. He instantly knew he could trust Scorpius.

‘It sounds nice though,’ said Scorpius after a few minutes. ‘I don’t know what it’s like to be part of such a large, happy family. All the noise, all the laughter.’ Scorpius frowned, tugging nervously at his sleeve once again.

‘It’s not all that, Scorpius. Honestly. They’re all mean to me, actually. Well not mean exactly, but they like to play their pranks and tricks. James is unbearable at times, and Louis and Fred do pretty much anything he tells them. My Mum tells them to stop, but she can’t see everything they do, can she? Molly and Lucy are too quiet. They only look up from their books to scowl at you. Victoire’s kind though, but she’s so much older it doesn’t really count.’ Albus paused. He hadn’t told anyone this before.

‘And Rose is Rose, I guess. You’ve seen her,’ he said.

‘Oh, I’ve seen her,’ smiled Scorpius, leaning back in his seat.

‘And they’re all really good at magic,’ went on Albus. ‘Honestly, I bet I’m the family embarrassment.

‘Uh-uh,’ Scorpius said, shaking his head. ‘There’s no way you could be. Me? I’m petrified. I’ve read everything on the set book list already. Twice. I even picked up some extra reading,’ he said picking up his copy of _Hogwarts: A History_. ‘Though I know this by heart anyway, Mum bought me the new edition last week.’

‘I’ve never read it,’ said Albus casually.

‘You simply must, Albus!’ said Scorpius with utter glee in his voice. He even clapped his hands in excitement. ‘It’s packed full of interesting facts and tidbits and things. Things on the general layout of the school, a thorough list of all the past headmasters and lots about the Founders. For example, it's quite well-known that Helga Hufflepuff had a certain flair, you may say, for food-based charms. But did you know that some of those original recipes are still made by the house-elves to this day? Let me find it!’ Scorpius grabbed the book from his lap and started rifling through it.

Scorpius keenly spouted a collection of facts at Albus for the next twenty minutes or so. Albus was happy to humour him, though he didn’t care much for the history of the place he had been told about his whole life. Scorpius didn’t seem to notice Albus’s lack of enthusiasm and carried on regardless. Scorpius informed Albus that he was most looking forward to learning Transfiguration, Potions and of course History of Magic. Albus didn’t really know what he was looking forward to. The only feeling he, Albus, felt at the moment was dread.

Around one o’clock there was a clunking noise outside in the corridor. An ancient witch slid back the door and smiled. She was pushing a trolley laden with a whole range of sweets, snacks, drinks and the latest edition of the Daily Prophet.

‘Anything from the trolley, dears?’ she asked.

Scorpius immediately reached into his robe pocket and produced a large pouch of jangling coins. Albus was quicker.

‘Are you hungry, Scorpius?

‘Yes, I’ll just get mine.’

‘No, no. It’s fine. I’ll pay,’ said Albus.

The trolley witch handed Albus a few Pumpkin Pasties, a large stack of Cauldron Cakes, and two bottles of Pumpkin Juice.

‘Oh, and two boxes of Pepper Imps, and erm – four Chocolate Frogs, please,’ said Albus. He placed the right money into the trolley witch’s open palm. She paused in the doorway briefly while she checked the money, then raised her eyebrows and snorted as she put it through the till.

‘Nothing like your father, are you? Nearly cleared me out of everything I had, he did, first Hogwarts Express journey,’ she said before shuffling off. Albus smiled as he tipped the snacks and sweets on to an empty chair.

Albus chucked a Pumpkin Pasty over to Scorpius who caught it easily in one hand. Sharing came as second nature to Albus, but never had it been out of choice. It was nice sitting with Scorpius, eating their way through all the pasties and cakes Albus had bought. Scorpius threw a few Shoc-O-Chocs over, as well as some Liquorice Wands.

‘You must’ve had a Chocolate Frog before?’

‘Of course. Uncle Ron and Uncle George try and slip us some when Mum isn’t looking,’ said Albus. ‘James always steals my cards though.’

‘In that case, you can start collecting today.’

Albus unwrapped his Chocolate Frog and picked up the card. It showed a man’s face. He wore round glasses, had a lightning-bolt shaped scar on his forehead and untidy jet-black hair. Underneath the picture was the name Harry Potter. Albus let out a loud sigh.

‘Who’d you get, Albus?’ said Scorpius, his mouth half full with Cauldron Cake.

Albus turned over his card and read:

 _Harry James Potter, currently Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry of Magic._  
_Only known survivor of the Killing Curse. Mysteriously brought about the first downfall of the dark wizard known as Lord Voldemort on 31st October 1981, at the age of fifteen months. Was previously known as ‘The Boy Who Lived.’_  
_Eventually defeated Lord Voldemort on 2nd May 1998 at the Battle of Hogwarts, and was promoted to Head of the Auror Office at the young age of twenty-six._

Albus turned his card back over by which time his father’s face had thankfully disappeared.

‘Do you want this?’ asked Albus. He held out his father’s card towards Scorpius, who shook his head.

‘No thanks. I’ve got about six of your dad. He’s a fairly common card, I’m afraid,’ said Scorpius.

Albus opened a few more Chocolate Frogs, though he seemed to be unlucky with the cards he got. He got Herpo the Foul, two Merlin cards, and another of his dad. Scorpius didn’t have much luck either. There were no new cards for him apparently, so he passed them over to Albus to add to his collection. When all the Chocolate Frogs had been eaten Albus added Agrippa, Newt Scamander, Circe and Morgan le Fay to his collection.

Scorpius had just cracked open the box of Bertie Bott’s Every-Flavour Beans when Rose returned. Scorpius panicked when she opened the door, nervously dropping the box to the floor where it burst open. Beans flew out in all directions, completely covering the floor. Some fell in the stitching of the seats, some underneath, and some even fell down Scorpius’s robes. Rose merely rolled her eyes and stepped around the mess. She squeezed herself into a little spare space on the seat beside Albus and crossed her legs.

‘Hi Rose,’ said Scorpius. He had gracelessly sloped on to the floor and was now picking up each bean individually. Rose replied with a wry smile.

‘Albus, I really must insist you come and join me in another compartment,’ said Rose. She glanced quickly over at Scorpius.

‘You found people to sit with then?’

‘Yes – well – Not new people. James, Louis, Fred and Roxy, I mean.’

‘Honestly Rose, you don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine here. With Scorpius,’ said Albus.

Scorpius hadn’t made much progress with the Every-Flavour Beans on the floor, but now he was grabbing fistfuls and stuffing them back into the box. His knuckles were white.

‘Oh Albus, I don’t mind,’ said Scorpius quietly. ‘Go. Join your cousins.’

Rose nodded over-eagerly in Albus’s direction, only stopping when Scorpius looked up from the floor. Albus noticed his mouth was twitching.

Scorpius attempted to stand but he slipped on a rogue bean and fell back against the compartment window. The Every-Flavour Bean box fell from his hands sending the beans cascading down once more, this time completely showering Albus and Rose.

‘Urgh!’ cried Rose. ‘Honestly!’ She leant down and snatched the box up from off the floor, whipped out her wand and sharply tapped the box. At once the beans flew up from the floor like a flock of starlings on the wing, and funnelled themselves neatly back into the box. The box sealed shut with another jab from Rose’s wand. Scorpius quickly jumped back into his seat. Rose looked rather pleased with himself. She beamed.

‘How did you do that?’ Scorpius keenly asked. Rose tutted and threw the box of beans back over to him. He purposely missed and let it fall on to the seat beside him.

‘It’s all in Magical Theory,’ stated Rose nonchalantly. ‘Chapter Ten if I’m not mistaken, _Malfoy_. Haven’t you even bothered to open any of the set books?’

Scorpius looked shocked to be addressed by Rose so harshly. He opened his mouth to reply, but again Albus was quicker.

‘Scorpius has read them all twice, _actually,_ Rose,’ he said.

Rose crossed her arms and rolled her eyes.

‘And you haven’t even tried putting any of that theory into practise?' 

Scorpius shook his head.

'It's quite simple,' said Rose. 'I tried a few beginner spells in the other compartment. It's not against school rules to use magic on the train, after all. You'll know that,' said Rose to Scorpius, pointing to  _Hogwarts: A History_ beside him. 'My cousin Lucy was rather impressed, I think, and it takes a lot to impress her,' laughed Rose.

‘Are you staying, Rose? Because we were sort of in the middle of a conversation when you barged in,’ said Albus harshly.

Rose pulled a face. ‘Well you didn't join me, so I thought I’d better stay here and watch over you myself,’ she said.

‘Watch over me? Why?’

Rose made eyes at Scorpius, who had once again opened _Hogwarts: A History_ , his eyes slowly scanning the page.

Rose’s return had completely changed the atmosphere in the compartment. Scorpius carried on reading while Albus watched the farmer's fields flying by, choosing not to talk either. Rose picked hairs and bits of fluff from her robes.

‘So, Scorpius,’ said Rose, this time taking great care to say his name, ‘do you have any idea what house you’ll be in?’

Albus turned and glared at her. She ignored him. Scorpius looked up from his book, though his fingers still stroked its pages fondly.

‘I don’t think Ravenclaw would be bad. It would suit me quite nicely, I think.’

‘Ravenclaw? Really?’ Rose interjected. ‘The house of wit and cleverness?’

‘I mean, I’ll probably be in Slytherin,’ squeaked Scorpius. ‘My family always seem to be.’

Rose let out a fake giggle.

‘Thought so,’ she said.

‘I suppose it’s up to the Sorting Hat. I couldn’t complain whatever house I’m put in.’

Rose picked up a Cauldron Cake from beside her and started tearing bits off. Scorpius looked like he was waiting for a response, but Rose didn’t give him one. Not immediately, anyhow.

‘I don’t suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad,’ said Rose. ‘But I think it’ll have to be Gryffindor for me. Weasley family tradition, right Al?’

Albus said nothing.

Rose began talking in length with Scorpius about the traits and other quirks of the other Hogwarts houses. It wasn’t exactly a conversation as Rose did most of the talking, and Scorpius contributed only with the odd nod or squeak or shake of his head. He released a strange noise when Rose declared that she too knew _Hogwarts: A History_ off by heart, though thankfully for him she didn’t seem to notice. Rose had just launched herself into a fresh conversation on her ambition to be on the Gryffindor Quidditch team one day, when the compartment door slid open once more. Three boys swaggered in and Albus instantly grimaced. The new arrivals ignored Albus and Rose at first. They only had eyes for Scorpius, whose cheeks immediately filled with colour. He swallowed loudly.

‘What do you want, James?’ asked Albus, directing his question at the tall, dark-haired boy in the middle.

James scoffed.

‘That’s no way to talk to your big brother, Al. Rude,’ said James.

The two boys on either side sniggered, though it wasn’t particularly funny.

‘Scorpius,’ began Albus, ‘meet my _big_ brother, James.’

James beamed at the mere mention of his name. He had a devilish sort of face, the sort that is always quick to smile or laugh. ‘And these are my cousins, Louis and Fred,’ continued Albus, pointing in turn to the slim silver-haired one to the left of James, then at the slightly taller boy with flaming-red hair to his right. Louis bowed his head while Fred did a fake curtsy. James put out his hand for Scorpius to shake, which he did, but James seemed to relish at Scorpius’s rather feeble grip.

‘We came to see where our little Rosie had gone. Check she hadn’t got lost,’ teased James.

‘Don’t call me that!’ cried Rose.

James ignored Rose’s protests and instead forced himself between her and Albus, causing a few empty Chocolate Frog boxes and a Liquorice Wand to fall to the floor. Louis and Fred managed to find room around the pile of sweets on the seat beside Scorpius. He had resumed reading, though he looked very uncomfortable, and had taken to fidgeting with his fingers. Albus thought he could actually see a pulse in Scorpius’s neck.

‘Say Scorpius,’ said James. Albus immediately shot him a look. ‘I don’t suppose we could have some of your sweets? We seem to have missed the old trolley witch. Someone was playing around with Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder down in our carriage earlier and she must have slipped by us.’

Louis and Fred snickered.

Scorpius snapped the book shut a little too forcefully, keeping a finger pressed between its pages. He smiled weakly.

‘Of course,’ Scorpius obliged. ‘Help yourself, he said, not looking any of them in the eye. James didn’t seem to mind. The words were hardly out of Scorpius’s mouth before James had started opening the last Shoc-O-Choc.

‘James, this really isn’t fair. I’ll tell Mum.’

‘Oh! Keep your hair on, Al,’ said James. He suddenly gasped, and let out a loud gleeful laugh. ‘Keep your hair on!’ he exclaimed, pointing to himself at first, then Scorpius, whose ears instantly went a bright shade of pink. ‘Do you get it!?’

Louis and Fred joined in with the laughter, though the joke seemed to have gone completely over Louis’s head. Rose didn’t laugh, instead she looked suitably uncomfortable. It was obvious to Albus that they were all privy to the rumour concerning Scorpius.

‘Enough,’ commanded Rose, stamping her foot on the ground. That seemed to bring James, Louis and Fred back from the brink of hysterics. James took a handful of Scorpius’s remaining sweets.

‘Come on you two,’ said James to Louis and Fred. ‘Remember to be on Thestral watch, Al,’ smirked James. He turned to leave but Albus stood up. His fists were clenched tightly. His lips had narrowed and his jaw was tense as if he had bared his teeth. James however, was completely relaxed. In fact, he was laughing.

‘And you say I’m the show-off!’ said James. ‘Though, you’ve never really had anyone to show off to before now, have you?’ He pointed at Scorpius, who was cowering against the window with his eyes shut. He looked petrified. His body seemed to have folded in on itself, his legs raised in an act of self-defence, though Albus knew he was never in any danger.

Albus grabbed his wand and squared up to James, who responded by cackling loudly. Rose said something hurried and panicked, but Albus did not know what.

‘Careful, Albie. Mum isn’t here to help you now.’

Sparks shot from Albus’s wand, burning a few small holes in James’s robes just above his waist.

‘Do you even know how to use that?’ taunted James. He didn’t cower or flinch. He forced Albus’s wand away, while Albus raised his fist.

Rose jumped up and stood between then. She pushed James away, forcing him towards the door.

‘Leave, James! Leave! James, please,’ pleaded Rose.

‘You’re right,’ said James, casually sauntering out. ‘Don’t let the Thestrals bite, Al. Or the Giant Squid. Those tentacles – Ooh!’ he exclaimed, faking an icy shiver. Louis and Fred closely followed. Albus heard them laugh as they went back up the corridor.

Rose turned.

‘Put that away,’ she spat at Albus, who was still holding his wand in his hand fiercely. ‘Fighting already. Honestly. You’ll be in trouble before we even get there!’

Albus threw his wand onto the seat and rearranged his robes moodily.

‘Compose yourself, Al,’ said Rose. Her brows were still narrowed. Furious.

‘It’s Albus,’ he declared.

‘Oh whatever!’ cried Rose. ‘I’m only saying, we’ll be arriving soon. Look.’

She pointed out of the window at the deep-purple sky. Albus could see mountains and forests.

‘Are you alright?’

It took a moment for Scorpius to realise Rose was addressing him. His cheeks were tinged with pink, his ears red, and his hands were wildly fidgeting. He stopped, flexed both hands out, and started chewing on his right thumbnail.

‘Mmhmm. Yes. I mean. Yes, I’m alright,’ said Scorpius clearing his throat. ‘Thank you.’

‘Then I’ll be going now,’ said Rose. ‘See you up at the school.’

Soon after Rose left a voice echoed through the whole train: ‘We will be reaching Hogsmeade in five minutes’ time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately.’

The anger left Albus immediately. His stomach bubbled with nerves, the same dread he had been feeling earlier that morning had returned. He noticed Scorpius looked an off-colour.

When the train stopped, Albus and Scorpius joined the other students in the corridor. They filed past Victoire who was overseeing the disembarkment. Someone opened a door, and Albus and Scorpius stepped out onto the little platform. Albus shivered in the cold night air and Scorpius’s teeth chattered.

‘Firs’-years! Firs’-years over here!’ came a loud voice. It belonged to a giant of a man who was holding a lamp aloft over the heads of the students. Albus recognised the voice as belonging to Rubeus Hagrid.

‘You alright there, Albus?’ he boomed, his large face beaming. Hagrid’s warm black eyes glinted in the lamplight. Though his hair was still dark, Albus couldn’t help but notice the white-grey streaks in Hagrid’s beard.

‘C’mon, follow me!’ he shouted. ‘Firs’-years follow me!’

Hagrid led the first years down a narrow path. It had been raining and the pathway was particularly slippy. Albus was able to get a better look at Scorpius for the first time then, though it was dark, the moon was bright. Scorpius was taller than he was, gangly and gawky looking, as if he hadn’t quite grown into his body. His arms seemed to trail and his feet looked much too large on his thin legs. He plodded along like a puppy, slipping every once in a while, but making sure to grab Albus to steady himself. Scorpius didn’t seem so nervous or jittery when he was one of the crowd.

‘Yeh’ll get yer firs’ sight o’ Hogwarts in a sec,’ boomed Hagrid up ahead. ‘Jus’ round this bend here.’

There were a collection of ‘Oohs,’ ‘Ahhs,’ and one of the girls even squealed rather loudly when they turned the corner and saw Hogwarts for the first time. The pathway had opened up to a large black lake. It was still, and the moon was reflected in it perfectly, a large white orb amongst the blackness. There was a mountain on the other side, with a large castle atop it. Its windows glistened like stars in the darkness, and its turrets seemed to pierce the sky itself. Scorpius grabbed Albus’s wrist. He was shaking but not through cold.

‘Wow,’ he said quietly. He had stopped in his tracks. Scorpius’s eyes were wide with awe and wonder when Albus turned to face him. He blinked a few times, as if trying to ascertain that the castle was real, not merely a figment of his imagination or a drawing in a book. His jaw had dropped too, and though Albus couldn’t be sure, he thought he saw a single lone tear gliding down Scorpius’s cheek.

‘Sorry,’ Scorpius said quickly. Realising what he had done, he instantly let go of Albus’s wrist, wiping his face with the sleeve of his robes. ‘I – I slipped,’ he stammered, but Albus knew he hadn’t.

They all went down a grass verge to the lakeside, where a small fleet of boats awaited them. There was to be no more than four to a boat, Hagrid had said. Albus and Scorpius clambered into one, followed by Rose and a girl with dark hair and a sneering face.

‘Everyone in?’ shouted Hagrid, not caring to wait for a response. ‘Then – FORWARD!’

The boats all set sail at once, gliding across the still lake as if it were a mirror, not disrupting it at all. The castle was imposing up close. Albus gripped onto the side of the boat tightly as they passed through a curtain of ivy which hid a large opening in the cliff side. The opening led them down a dark tunnel and into a sort of underground harbour, roughly hewn from stone.

After all the first years had disembarked, Hagrid led them through a pitch-black passageway, only made possible by the light of Hagrid’s lamp. After a few minutes, they came out on to a small bit of grass, right in the shadow of the castle. Hagrid took them up a short flight of stone steps and knocked three times on the impressive castle door. Albus heard Scorpius sniff loudly behind him.


	2. The Sorting Ceremony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus, Scorpius and Rose arrive at Hogwarts and are sorted into their houses.

The castle door swung open to reveal a tiny little man. He had a joyful face and was dressed in bright periwinkle robes. He was mostly bald and the little hair he did have was whiter than white.

‘The firs’- years, Professor Flitwick,’ said Hagrid, stepping aside from the doorway, letting them all in.

‘Thank you, Hagrid!’ squeaked Professor Flitwick, rubbing his hands together. ‘I shall take them from here.’

He led them a short distance to another large doorway. Professor Flitwick was so short he couldn’t reach the door handles. Albus wondered if he should step forward to help. He didn’t want to seem so overly keen on his very first day, so thought better of it. It turned out, however, that Professor Flitwick required no assistance. He took out his wand and tapped the door once. The doors sprang open instantly revealing the largest room Albus had ever seen.

Albus’s dad had taken him and James to the Ministry of Magic, where he worked, a few years ago. He was meant to be on holiday, but that didn’t mean much when your dad was Harry Potter. Albus didn’t want to go, but his mum made him. His dad had taken them through the visitor’s entrance and through a huge room, the Atrium, his dad had called it. Albus remembered feeling tiny standing in it. The Entrance Hall of Hogwarts was double, if not triple the size of the Atrium, and Albus had never felt smaller.

A wide marble staircase faced them, but Professor Flitwick led them down to the right and into a small chamber. Flitwick took out his wand once more, waved it about a little, and small wooden platform appeared at his feet. He stepped up on to the box he had just conjured and quickly cleared his throat.

‘Welcome to Hogwarts,’ he cried. ‘The start-of-term feast shall begin shortly, first-years. However, first you must be sorted! The Sorting is an incredibly important ceremony which harks back to the very founding of the school and the lasting precedent which the Founders themselves set. You will have classes with the rest of your house, share a common room and sleep in your house dormitory. In other words, your house shall be your family whilst you are here.’

‘The four houses are of course Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, Slytherin and Ravenclaw. Each house boasts a long and noble history and have all produced a fine set of celebrated witches and wizards throughout the ages. Who knows, perhaps I am looking down on some of the outstanding witches and wizards of the future,’ squeaked Flitwick. ‘Whilst here you shall be rewarded with house points, though any misdemeanour or rule-breaking shall lose you points. The House Cup is awarded at the end of the year, a great honour to whichever house wins.’

Flitwick took a deep breath and stepped down from the platform. ‘Now, the Sorting Ceremony shall begin shortly in front of the rest of the school. I will return when we are ready for you. Hopefully you won’t be kept waiting for long. I remember those pre-Sorting nerves well myself!’

Flitwick lightly jogged out the chamber and left the first-years to worry amongst themselves. The air was heavy with anxiety and Albus felt like his heart had stopped beating moments before they had even entered the castle.

‘How exactly do they sort us into houses?’ whispered a boy somewhere behind Albus. He sounded scared. Another boy close by wanted to know too. It was Rose who responded first, naturally. Albus heard her reply with short, clipped, almost monosyllabic answers, like she was quoting directly from a book. When he turned to face her, Rose was breathing deeply. She looked tense, shoulders raised, and her lips were moving rather quickly.

‘So, they’re just going to put some old hat on my head?’ chortled the boy. He had a rather thin face. The others around him laughed nervously too. Rose joined in though her face was frowned with worry and general unease.

Suddenly the girl with the sneering-face from the boat screamed. A few others jumped back with fright as twenty or thirty ghosts glided through the back wall and settled in front of them. There was a pearly-white glow all around and a chill shot down Albus’s spine. He shuddered. Scorpius was the only one not to quiver in fear as his eyes filled with wonder.

‘How uncouth, young sir! You take that back!’ cried a tall, curly-haired ghost sporting a large ruff. ‘That “old hat” belonged to Godric Gryffindor himself. It is no mere headpiece. The Sorting Hat is imbued with immensely powerful magic, enchanted by the Founders themselves. Thus, it is a most treasured relic and a renowned historical artefact. You will do well to remember that if you wish to be in Gryffindor house.’

‘Now, now, Sir Nicholas,’ said the ghost of a fat little monk. ‘From the mouths of children. Who can we rely on to speak freely and truthfully if not the youth of the day?’

The other ghosts muttered to each other.

‘You – You’re Sir Nicholas?’ stuttered Scorpius. ‘Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, the resident ghost of Gryffindor house? An honour – a real honour, sir,’ said Scorpius, bowing deeply.

The sneering girl snickered loudly.

‘Now, now. There is no need for such genuflections,’ said Nearly-Headless Nick, raising a slightly transparent hand in protest. He looked around at the other ghosts and smirked. He turned back and gasped.

‘Who do we have here?’ asked Nearly-Headless Nick. Scorpius looked up hopefully, but Nick wasn’t pointing at him. He was pointing right at Albus. Albus swallowed loudly.

‘I could spot a Potter a mile off.’

‘Yes – sir – I’m Albus. Albus Potter.’

‘Then I look forward to you joining my house, Albus Potter. Welcome to Hogwarts.’

Nearly-Headless Nick bowed his head a little awkwardly before turning to the other ghosts and floating to the wall opposite and going straight through it. The ghost of the Fat Friar followed, and so did the other ghosts, who Albus was sure hadn’t even noticed the first-years were there. They muttered amongst themselves as they glided away and through the wall.

The sneering girl pushed herself closer.

‘Albus Potter!’ she cried.

‘A Potter. In our year,’ said a boy with the side parting. He too had pushed himself forward. The thin-faced boy appeared beside him.

‘He’s got his hair! He’s got hair just like him!’ cried the second boy.

Albus wanted the ground to swallow him. He wished the ghosts would come back. A distraction like that would be most welcome right now.

People always said he looked like his dad, and Albus hated it. People, complete strangers often, felt the desire to tell him he had his father’s eyes. They were the same shape and bright-green colour as Albus’s. Never before had someone said he had his father’s hair too, he thought. Was his hair really that untidy?

A distraction presented itself in the form of Rose, who flounced forwards swishing her robes enthusiastically. Her nerves were seemingly gone.

‘And he’s my cousin!’ she said loudly. ‘Rose Granger-Weasley. Nice to meet you,’ she said, holding out her hand for them to shake. They did a little too keenly, three hands all flying forward at once. Rose shook them each in turn with a wide grin on her face.

Professor Flitwick re-entered the chamber in a hurry.

‘We’re running a little behind schedule. The Sorting Ceremony is about to begin,’ he squeaked. ‘Please form an orderly line.’

Albus and Scorpius got in line behind Rose and followed Professor Flitwick back through the hall and over to a pair of great double doors which led into the Great Hall. Albus’s legs felt heavy. It was a great effort for him to drag them across the ancient flagstones. Behind him, Scorpius was walking extra carefully. He raised his feet high with every step, giving him the appearance of a puppet on strings. He was paler than usual, but his eyes were fixed, determined.

Albus had been told about the Great Hall before, of course, but never could he have imagined just how splendid it would look. Thousands of candles were floating over the four long house tables where the other students were sitting, with gleaming golden plates and goblets in front of them. At the top of the Hall was another long table which faced out where the teachers were sat, and it was here that Professor Flitwick led the first-years. He stopped them at the top so they were facing the other students, with the teachers now behind them.

Albus looked down over the new students. He picked out his cousins and other faces he recognised. He hated being on display. Victoire gave Albus a reassuring smile and he spotted James, Louis and Fred close by. Nearly-Headless Nick and the other ghosts were dotted about, intermingling with the students.

Scorpius gasped beside Albus. He turned to see Scorpius pointing up at the ceiling – but there was no ceiling. Where there should have been one was the sky, dotted with stars; some grouped together in small clusters and others in larger constellations. They all looked so close and very real.

‘It’s hard to believe it,’ said Scorpius, ‘but there is actually a ceiling there. It’s just enchanted to look like the sky outside. It says so in _Hogwarts: A History_. That’s some seriously good magic.’

When Albus looked back down, Professor Flitwick had conjured a four-legged stool out of thin air in front of the first-years. On top of the stool sat the Sorting Hat. It was old, extremely dirty and frayed and ragged in some places.

The Great Hall was silent apart from the flickering of a thousand floating candles. Then, the Sorting Hat twitched, opening its brim wide like a mouth, and began to sing:

 _‘I’ve done this job for centuries,_  
_On every student’s head I’ve sat,_  
_Of thoughts I take inventories,_  
_For I’m the famous Sorting Hat._

 _It was one day when I was young,_  
_Freshly stitched, back from the milliner,_  
_When from the lion's head I was flung,_  
_To sort you all before dinner._

 _Each of the founders had in mind,_  
_A quirk, a trait, a hope, a dream,_  
_Principles of their own, closely affined,_  
_This often follows a familiar theme._

 _It was Gryffindor who took me first,_  
_He charmed me with his bravery,_  
_A dash of wildness, prone to outburst,_  
_Don't tell him he was unsavoury._

 _Enchant me next did Ravenclaw,_  
_A flair of imagination, smart and witty,_  
_Thorough, careful, always sure,_  
_It's thanks to her I sing this ditty._

 _Hufflepuff held me gently after,_  
_Fair and kind, patiently she waited,_  
_Handpicked those given to laughter,_  
_Faithful to which she created._

 _Then old Slytherin bewitched me,_  
_Injected, I was, with pride and ambition,_  
_Champion of constant purity was he,_  
_For cunning was his mission._

 _All seems well, but is all clear?_  
_A brave Slytherin? A cunning Gryffindor?_  
_I've witnessed all in my place here,_  
_A clever Hufflepuff? An honest Ravenclaw?_

 _I’ve sorted high, I’ve sorted low,_  
_I’ve done this job through thick and thin._  
_So put me on and you will know,_  
_Which house you should be in.’_

The Sorting Hat bowed to each of the four tables to rapturous applause, then settled itself and became quite still once more. The Great Hall fell silent.

Albus’s vision started to haze over. He knew he wasn’t breathing properly. He looked around at Scorpius who was shaking, swaying slightly, though his large feet were firmly rooted to the spot. His bottom lip was trembling.

Was it really necessary for everyone to watch? Especially James and the others. The teachers were onlookers too, of course. Hagrid and Professor McGonagall the Headmistress, close friends of Albus’s parents. He had known them from birth. Couldn’t everyone just turn away when he went up, please? Albus wondered if he should take out his wand and try casting a spell or charm. Perhaps if he willed it hard enough the others would vanish or disappear leaving him to be sorted in private, but he knew it would never work.

Professor Flitwick then conjured up a sort of podium close to the stool. He climbed up and stood right at the top, holding onto a roll of parchment.

‘When I call out your name,’ cried Flitwick, ‘you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted.’ Professor Flitwick took a deep breath. ‘Nabil Amari!’

Albus and Scorpius both moved aside as a dark-haired boy went up to the stool. His hands shook as he placed the Sorting Hat on his head. There was a pause as everyone took a deep breath.

‘RAVENCLAW!’ shouted the hat.

The Ravenclaw table clapped and cheered as Nabil went and sat there.

‘Hugh Capewell!’

A boy beside Rose went up to the stool that time. He was sandy-haired with a lot of freckles. He didn’t seem as nervous as Nabil Amari had been, nor how nervous Albus and Scorpius felt. Hugh had barely placed the hat atop his head when it cried, ‘GRYFFINDOR!’  
Hugh swaggered off towards the Gryffindor table who, Albus noticed, had all leapt to their feet. He heard the familiar sound of James whooping.

Professor Flitwick then called on Polly Chapman, the sneering girl who had shared the boat with Albus, Scorpius and Rose. This time the Sorting Hat seemed to think a while. Polly’s eyes were jammed shut and she was rocking on the stool. It was another few seconds or so before the Sorting Hat spoke again.

‘GRYFFINDOR!’ shouted the hat suddenly, making everyone jump. Again, the Gryffindors rose to their feet and cheered on Polly who went and joined them.

Lyra Denthorn then went to Ravenclaw, and a pair of twins, Adira and Caleb Fairchild joined the Gryffindor ranks. Yann Fredericks, the thin-faced boy from earlier, also went to Gryffindor. Then –

‘Rose Granger-Weasley!’ squeaked Professor Flitwick.

Rose blinked a few times before running up to the Sorting Hat. She positioned herself nicely on the stool and placed the hat on her head. Albus took a deep breath.

‘GRYFFINDOR!’ shouted the Sorting Hat almost at once.

‘Thank Dumbledore!’ cried Rose. She hopped down from the stool and ran over to the Gryffindor table. James had jumped up onto the bench and was madly waving his arms about in celebration. He jumped back down in time to greet Rose with his arms open wide.

Albus’s heart lurched. The other Weasley cousins applauded and clapped Rose on the back. He couldn’t bear to look at them.

Karl Jenkins, the boy with the side parting, was the first to go over to Hufflepuff. Albus noticed the ghost of the Fat Friar grinning as Karl sat down and shook hands with the other Hufflepuffs. Scorpius suddenly became more animated. He was whispering under his breath, preparing himself. Albus only realised why when Professor Flitwick called out the next name on his roll of parchment.

‘Scorpius Malfoy!’

Scorpius moved quickly. His legs wobbled a little as he sat down on the stool and jammed the Sorting Hat on his head. The Sorting Hat seemed much bigger on Scorpius’s head than it did the others. It slipped right down, covering his eyes completely. The Sorting Hat couldn’t seem to decide with Scorpius. A clear minute passed before the Sorting Hat shouted once more.

‘SLYTHERIN!’

Scorpius stood up at once. He paused and smiled, and Albus knew he had been expecting this. The Slytherins applauded somewhat reservedly.

‘Well that makes sense,’ muttered Professor McGonagall from behind. Albus’s heart dropped a little bit. He watched as Scorpius went over to the Slytherin table, tripping on the way there. A few people laughed. There was only one boy who stood up to greet Scorpius. He wore a green beanie hat and Scorpius enthusiastically shook his hand.

Albus suddenly felt very hollow. His heart was heavy but his mind was whirring. He looked over at the Slytherin table where Scorpius was sat fidgeting with his sleeves again, then over at the Gryffindor table where James and Rose had their heads together. They looked like they were having fun. He just felt sick.

‘Albus Potter!’ cried Professor Flitwick suddenly. His heart dropped as the Great Hall went completely silent. Heads turned as people all around the hall began muttering and murmuring amongst themselves.

‘Potter, he said.’

‘Albus Potter…’

He didn’t remember walking up to the stool but he did somehow. Everything seemed to go quiet once more, not even the floating candles dared to flicker. Albus could feel everyone’s eyes on him as he brought the Sorting Hat down carefully over his head. All he could see was black. He waited.

‘Albus Potter,’ said a small voice in his ear. ‘This may prove to be difficult. Complex. Different to the rest. You see it yourself, don’t you? You’ve got nerve, yes, a daring resilience, I see that. Sharp mind too, and perceptive. And loyal, so very loyal. Head or heart, Albus Potter? Or are they the same thing? Dare I say it, but I sense a familiar yearning, a thirst to prove yourself. Now that’s interesting. Keen to prove you’re different. And similar. Keen to show you’re different and similar all at the same time. A desire to belong somewhere. Anywhere. I sense the conflict in your head, Albus Potter, but where shall I put you?’

Albus gripped onto the edges of the stool and his mind wandered back to Platform 9 ¾. ‘The Sorting Hat will take your feelings into account,’ his dad had said.

‘You fear being placed in Slytherin,’ said the hat. ‘You fear what could make you great. But your mind wanders and your heart betrays you.’

Albus thought of Scorpius, the socially inept blond boy he met in the compartment; unassuming, anxious and incredibly nervous. He wasn’t a typical Slytherin, so why had the hat placed him there? Scorpius's father, Draco, had been in Slytherin too, but he became a Death Eater, a follower of Lord Voldemort himself. Albus thought next of Scorpius’s mother, a faceless woman, a silhouette shrouded in the autumn mist on the platform at King's Cross. A woman Scorpius swore was good and kind and sweet, and Albus believed him. It suddenly became clear in Albus's mind that anyone with a son like Scorpius could never be evil or bad.

‘Well, if you’re decided – better be SLYTHERIN!’

The Sorting Hat shouted the last word to the whole Hall. Albus took off the hat and set it back down on the stool slowly. He saw people turning to each other, silently gasping, shocked looks on all their faces. He saw James frown. It was a most profound silence.

‘Slytherin?’ cried Polly Chapman.

Scorpius and the boy with the green beanie jumped up at once, though the rest of Slytherin house looked just as stunned as the others.

‘Woah! A Potter? In Slytherin?’ questioned the boy with the green beanie. Scorpius looked positively delighted. He shot Albus a big thumbs up and shouted something, but Albus could not hear. The silence of the rest of the Great Hall was deafening.

‘Right. Yes,’ said Albus, shakily walking over to join Scorpius at the Slytherin table. He collapsed into the seat beside him.

His hearing soon returned, but it was mainly mutterings from the other tables, things Albus wished he couldn’t hear. The Slytherins remained quiet. Albus looked through the crowd of people and found Rose sitting at the Gryffindor table. She was looking completely bewildered.

‘Oh Albus,’ she said softly, though Albus heard every word. ‘This isn’t how it’s meant to be.’

Rose’s eyes filled with tears as she looked around at James, who had turned away, then up at the teacher’s High Table. She looked at the teachers with pleading eyes.

Albus looked away, he couldn't bear to look anymore. His mind felt foggy and jagged, and his body felt weak, like it had been torn apart and examined like the Sorting Hat had his head. Was it shame he felt? Or fear? Albus was not sure. Seeing James and Rose react like they had made his heart yearn to be sitting next to them - to have Rose congratulate him, and James pat him harshly on the back. 

‘Are you alright?’ whispered Scorpius.

‘What – me?’ said Albus. ‘I’m alright. Fine. I’m fine, really. You?’

Scorpius nodded and sighed with relief. Albus wished he too could feel relief.

The boy with the beanie hat reached his hand across Scorpius with a large smile on his face.

‘Craig Bowker, Albus. Third year. Pleasure to meet you,’ he said, shaking Albus’s hand a little too vigorously. Albus smiled in return but said nothing. He still felt rather queasy.

There were a few people still left to be sorted, but Albus didn’t hear their names or what houses they went to. He was staring down at his reflection in the golden dinner plate, his bright-green eyes shining back at him. Green for Slytherin, he thought, before pushing the plate away. Professor Flitwick rolled up his scroll and left his podium, making it vanish with a gentle flick of his wand. He took the Sorting Hat away with him. Professor McGonagall got to her feet when he left the Great Hall, and surveyed the room closely.

‘To our new first-years, welcome,’ she said. ‘To our returning students, welcome back. You must all be hungry, so we shall begin our feast.’ She sat back down and everyone clapped and cheered.

The plates and dishes in front of Albus instantly filled with food. It looked delicious. There was roast beef, pork chops, bacon, sausages, roast chicken, potatoes, and a whole variety of vegetables and vegetarian options. The goblets were filled with pumpkin juice, others water, but Albus didn’t feel like eating or drinking. He didn’t think he’d be able to keep anything down.

Scorpius was much the same, though he had put a few things on his plate. He tore thin pieces of chicken up, but it took him a while to eat any of it. Albus was glad he wasn’t sat next to Craig, who seemed to be glad of the new company on the Slytherin table. He had began asking Scorpius all sorts of questions, and Scorpius obliged. Albus just wanted to be left alone.

‘Ah, so that’s the Bloody Baron,’ said Scorpius to Craig. ‘You know, he looks exactly like his description in _Hogwarts: A History_.’

Albus looked over to where Scorpius was pointing at a horrid-looking ghost. His eyes were empty and blank, and seemed to stare straight forward all the time. He had a gaunt face and his robes were stained with silvery blood.

‘Say Albus,’ said Scorpius, obviously trying to pique an interest, ‘do you know why the Bloody Baron’s robes are so bloody?’

Albus shook his head and grimaced. The thought of blood made him feel even worse.

‘Sorry. You look quite ill. Are you alright? Have you had a drink of water?’

Albus took the water from Scorpius and took a sip. He seemed to feel better instantly.

‘Hydration is key. See, you’ve got colour back in your cheeks already,’ said Scorpius. ‘Mum always says to drink lots, but then she has to. I'm not sure if there's a quick remedy for dehydration yet, a potion or something, but I don't think there have been any significant discoveries in that field for a decade or two. I'm sure I would've read about it and ... Sorry, I don’t know what I’m saying really. I’m nervous too. I talk when I’m nervous. I just can’t keep quiet – see, there I go, wittering on again. Talking utter nonsense. Forget it.’

‘I don’t think you’re wittering on,’ said Albus. Scorpius smiled.

‘Well I’m glad someone thinks that.’

Albus ate a little, though his stomach hadn’t quite settled. Before long the remains of food disappeared from the plates, becoming sparkling clean once more. The puddings arrived soon after, and Scorpius’s face lit up. He helped himself to a large slice of chocolate cake, while Albus had two forkfuls of treacle tart.

Albus began to tire with the little bit of food in his belly. He had been up early that morning, earlier than his mother even. He double-checked, then tripled-checked he had everything packed away in his trunk. He hadn’t slept much the night before either.

Albus looked up at the High Table. Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were deep in conversation. He spotted his godfather, Neville Longbottom, who was talking lively to Hagrid. They both waved when they saw him looking over. He’s Professor Longbottom here, he thought, I mustn’t call him Neville.

Beside them was a fat bald man with a large walrus-like moustache, who kept shooting bemused little glances in Albus’s direction.

‘That must be Professor Slughorn,’ said Scorpius, catching Albus’s line of sight. ‘He teaches Potions. He must be ancient by now. I know he taught my father and grandfather, and maybe even my great-grandfather. I believe he’s still head of Slytherin house. Easy job for him with our year, I suppose. You and I are the only ones!’

Albus nodded. He hadn’t realised that he and Scorpius were the only new Slytherins that year, but he thought it best to play along, to not show that he had been completely distracted and wasn’t paying attention. He did know about Professor Slughorn, however, as his parents had mentioned him once or twice.

When the puddings had disappeared, Professor McGonagall once again got to her feet and the Great Hall fell completely silent.

‘Now we have all eaten, just a few short words. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First-years should note that the forest in the school grounds is forbidden to all pupils. The forest is home to many dangerous creatures, not to mention an extensive colony of centaurs. Any student who crosses the boundary line risks endangering the Centaurus Terra Agreement, a treaty signed long before any of you were born.’ Her eyes flashed in James, Louis and Fred’s direction. They smirked.

‘Mr Filch, our deliberate caretaker, has also asked to remind you that no magic should be used in the corridors between classes. Also, Quidditch trials are due to begin within the next fortnight, and anyone interested should contact Madam Hooch. I wish you all the best during the next year of studies. Lessons begin first thing on Monday morning.’

Professor McGonagall paused and smiled. She didn’t look like the kind of woman who smiled very often.

‘Now, off to bed with you all. Goodnight.’

Albus and Scorpius followed Craig who took them over to a brawny-looking prefect with thick eyebrows. They were so large his forehead seemed weighed down by them. Either that, Albus thought, or his expression was a permanent scowl.

The prefect led them out of the Great Hall, across the Entrance Hall and down a flight of stairs to the dungeons. They stepped down into near-darkness and were led through a series of tunnels which ran beneath the school. After ten or so minutes of walking the prefect came to a halt in front a stone wall and turned to face Albus and Scorpius.

‘The password changes fortnightly. Watch now – _Sui generis_ ,’ said the prefect, and at once a doorway opened up in what was apparently a normal stone wall. ‘In you go,’ said the prefect, and they all piled in.

The Slytherin common room was very long, with rough, damp-looking walls and ceilings. It must be very low underground, thought Albus. Strange round lights entered the common room through windows which looked out into the Black Lake itself. They looked airy, like bubbles, and it was nice to see them drifting outside the window and onto the floor and walls of the common room.

Then the lights all disappeared. The Common Room would have been thrown into darkness if not for the crackling fire in the ornate fireplace and the emerald lamps which hung on chains above.

Scorpius squealed.

‘Look Albus,’ he whispered, ‘the Giant Squid.’

Albus jumped when he saw the large black eye staring back at him through the darkness at the window.

Scorpius placed a reassuring hand on Albus’s elbow.

‘You don’t need to worry,’ he said. ‘The Giant Squid is completely harmless. He poses no threat whatsoever. Never did I think I would ever be this close.’

Scorpius went and sat in an armchair close to the window where he could get a better look at the Giant Squid. It was a while before Albus went over to join him.

‘Research suggests that the Giant Squid is an anomaly, you know? Scamander or some other Magizoologist somewhere believes it to be completely unique in the world. Other giant squids exist, of course, but none before have ever reached this size or shown such high levels of intelligence. A one-off, you could say. How fascinating is that, Albus?’ said Scorpius, his eyes wide with awe. He didn't look at Albus as he spoke, his mind consumed with the wondrous Giant Squid of which he was obviously very well-read.

‘I don’t know. Sounds like a lonely sort of existence to me. Being the only one of your kind.’

Scorpius nodded quietly and at last turned to face Albus.

‘That’s true. You’re right, Albus, you’re absolutely right.’

The brawny prefect returned soon after and suggested that Albus and Scorpius find their dormitory and go to sleep. They found their dormitory down a further flight of steps, and as expected there were only two beds. Both four-posters, hung with emerald-green velvet curtains.

Their trunks had been placed at the bottom of the beds. They changed into their pyjamas quickly and quietly and fell into bed.

Albus was tired but he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep just yet. His mind was whirring, replaying images of the day. Platform 9 ¾, Scorpius alone in the train compartment, Rose and James's face when they saw him sorted into Slytherin. He tried to push them all to the back of his mind.

Albus heard a sharp, high-pitched scratching noise. It had been going on for some minutes now, but Albus had chosen to ignore it at first. When he looked over at Scorpius he found him sat up in his bed, a large eagle's quill in his hand, scribbling away into a big black notebook.

‘Sorry, did I wake you?’ said Scorpius, soon feeling Albus’s gaze.

‘No, it’s not that. I couldn’t sleep. I was just wondering what you were doing.’

‘I couldn’t sleep either. So I decided to write in my diary. It’s brand new – look,’ said Scorpius, holding up a blank book, ‘another gift from Mum.’

Albus smiled.

‘Your mum sounds nice,’ he said.

‘Oh. She is. The nicest,’ said Scorpius. ‘I was thinking about her. I’ve never been this far away from her before.’

Scorpius looked down at the notebook again. His eyes were red and blotchy, though he had made no sounds of crying.

Albus nodded. He hadn’t been this far away from his parents either, but at least he had James and Rose and the others, he supposed. Scorpius had no family at the school at all.

Scorpius’s quill eventually stopped scratching in the early hours of the morning by which time Albus was already fast asleep.


	3. The Old Potions Master

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first week of a brand new year at Hogwarts.
> 
> Albus and Scorpius begin their lessons. Albus, quick to impress, makes a mistake, and Rose is hurt.
> 
> Hagrid proves to have not changed much in those nineteen years.

Scorpius was already awake when Albus woke the next morning. He was looking out of a round porthole cut into the stone wall which looked out into the lake.

‘Good morning, Albus!’ he called cheerily.

‘Morning, Scorpius,’ Albus yawned back. ‘How long have you been up?’

Scorpius shrugged.

‘An hour or so. Maybe. I could hear trickling water. It was quite nice, calming even, to begin with anyway. I had to check where it was coming from,’ he said, pressing his ear close to the dark wall. ‘I think it’s in the walls.’

‘I’ll take your word for it,’ smiled Albus. ‘Do you want to go for breakfast? I’m starving.’

Scorpius nodded. It was a Saturday and lessons didn’t start until the following Monday. Albus was glad of those two days to adjust to his new surroundings. Hogwarts, it turned out, was a pretty big place, impressive and imposing at the same time. It was easy to feel small there, and Albus already felt small.

They dressed and went to the common room, which they found to be much unchanged in the daytime. There were a few older Slytherin sitting in the armchairs around the fireplace. They looked up when Albus and Scorpius entered, but soon turned back and began whispering amongst themselves. Only Craig Bowker, the boy they had met at the feast the night before, waved to them as they passed.

The Great Hall was fairly busy at that time in the morning. Like in the common room, everyone seemed to stop and stare when Albus and Scorpius entered. A few people hushed the mutterings which sprang up all around the hall, but Albus heard each voice as he and Scorpius found a seat on the Slytherin table beside a few fourth-year students.

‘Yeah, that’s him there.’

‘Who? Albus Potter?’

Albus helped himself to bacon and eggs, while Scorpius nibbled on a slice of toast. As usual, he was flicking through _Hogwarts: A History_. Every now and then he’d stop and gaze up at the enchanted ceiling, the floors and the fireplaces with his mouth open wide.

‘I can’t wait to get our timetables,’ said Scorpius. ‘I just can’t wait to get started. There’s only so much you can learn from books.’

Albus wasn’t entirely sure how to respond. He wasn’t looking forward to starting lessons at all. He might’ve been, but he knew the teachers were expecting him to be as brilliant as James and Victoire, and his parents. Everyone knew of his father’s great achievements and Albus just knew he couldn’t live up to such high expectations. Thankfully, Albus need not respond, as just then the post arrived.

He watched as a handful of owls descended from the ceiling. Some were carrying small packages whilst others carried forgotten belongings; books, hats and a few odd brooms. There was pointing and gasps of awe as one particularly large eagle owl circled the ceiling. Albus watched the owl, trying to guess who it belonged to. The owl started its descent, gracefully landing on the table in front of him, to his horror. It was carrying a small box. The owl had a harsh-looking face with large round amber eyes. It was striking, almost vicious-looking. Albus retreated slightly, taking his hands from the table and placing them in his lap.

‘Aquila! What are you doing here already?’ said Scorpius, burying his face into the owl’s feathers. The eagle owl puffed out its throat and let out a low, guttural hoot. Scorpius laughed.

‘Albus, meet Aquila. Aquila, this is Albus Potter.’ Albus and Aquila looked at each other, one looking slightly startled, the other, deeply uninterested.

‘What’s she sent me this time?’

The box was wrapped in brown paper and tied with a green and silver striped ribbon. Scorpius untied the package from Aquila’s leg and began opening it as the owl turned and looked warily around the Great Hall.

‘I don’t believe it,’ Scorpius laughed. ‘More sweets!’

Albus peered in and counted two Chocolate Frogs, a handful of Shoc-O-Chocs and a large bag of Pepper Imps tied neatly with a little bow. Also inside was a small green envelope with a large ‘M’ monogrammed on the flap. Scorpius ripped it open at once. He read the letter through twice, grinned and passed it on to Albus.

‘It’s from my Mum.’

Albus took the paper (which was also monogrammed) and saw the neat flowery writing written on it. It read:

_My darling Scorpius,_

_I couldn’t help myself while your dad and I were in London seeing you off yesterday. I also dragged your dad into some old Muggle sweetshop so you’ll find some of those in there too. Have a look, I’m sure there are a few we haven’t tried before. Of course, more Pepper Imps too. More than enough for you to share._

_We were both eager to know you’d arrived at Hogwarts safely, and your dad wrote to Professor McGonagall late last night. Congratulations on making Slytherin, we really are so very proud of you. Like we said yesterday, we’d have been happy no matter where you ended up. Part of me does wish you had been sorted into Hufflepuff just so I could see the look on your old grandfather’s face when we told him. Your dad tells me your grandfather is also very pleased, as much as it pains me to say._

_Write to me just to say how you’re getting on. You know how I worry. And remember Scorpius – just be yourself. No one can expect any more of you than that. Remember to breathe._

_All my love,_

_Mum_

_xxx_

Albus smiled, silently wishing his mum had sent him a letter and a box of sweets. Had his parents owled Professor McGonagall to check he had arrived safely too? Had they been shocked, surprised or had they expected that he would be sorted into Slytherin? Albus hoped more than anything that they were proud of him too.

Scorpius scribbled a reply onto the back of his mother’s letter and attached it to Aquila’s leg. He gave him a bit of bacon and gently stoked Aquila’s large ear tufts. He hugged the large owl as best as one can hug a large owl, before sending him on his way. Aquila at once jumped from the table and soared into the air, circled around twice, then left the Great Hall. Everyone seemed rather impressed by the sheer enormity of Aquila’s wingspan. Scorpius took out everything from the box and positioned them neatly on the table in front of him. He tried a few of the new Muggle sweets first, his breakfast quickly forgotten. He offered Albus some, which he declined. Scorpius then put the Chocolate Frogs and Pepper Imps back in and neatly tied it back up with the green and silver ribbon.

‘Hey Albus! Scorpius!’ called James loudly. He had just entered the Great Hall in a large group which included Fred and Louis. He sauntered over with a large grin on his face while his friends found their seats at the Gryffindor table.

‘So Al – Albus, sorry – I was thinking maybe – ’ He broke off as he suddenly noticed the box in front of Scorpius. ‘What’s that? A package from home already? More sweets, I bet. It is, isn’t it?’ James sat himself down opposite Albus and Scorpius, looking mischievous and extremely cheeky. Albus immediately tensed up, while Scorpius smiled.

‘What do you want, James?’ asked Albus.

‘I came to ask Scorpius here if I could have some sweets,’ said James. ‘Please,’ he quickly added. Scorpius began untying the ribbon once again while Albus looked despairingly. He shook his head and faced downwards at his now empty plate. There was just something about James which always made Albus see red. Albus was forced to look back up as James suddenly let out a loud yelp. It echoed around the Great Hall, making people turn curiously in search of the wounded animal which had apparently just let out a cry.

Victoire had appeared from nowhere and snuck up behind James, grabbed both his ears and yanked them hard. His ears were bright red and looked painful. Victoire looked rather pleased with herself.

‘This isn’t your table, James,’ she said casually, finally letting go of his ears.

‘Owww! I didn’t realise prefects were permitted to use violence as a form of punishment,’ said James. He rubbed his ears and pulled a sour face. ‘I don’t see Teddy here anyway. Why are you here?’

Victoire smirked and made another grab for James’s ears. He avoided her, but only just.

‘Funny, cuz. I think you’ll find I’m Head Girl now, look,’ she said, modelling her shiny badge for all to see. ‘I’m permitted anywhere I like now. Head Girls get special privileges.’

James looked around the hall, abashed and embarrassed at this very public telling off. Over at the Gryffindor table Louis and Fred were snickering. Lucy was shooting disapproving glances at them all.

‘Really? I must have missed that. Didn’t mention it at all over the summer, did you? And I know you’re lying. I don’t care if we’re family – I’ll report you!’

‘To who? My authority goes higher than any teacher, even Professor McGonagall,’ she said, throwing a casual glance over at shoulder at the high table behind her. ‘I’m under strict instructions that you behave this year. By any means necessary. Your mum made sure of that,’ Victoire said, now laughing. ‘Aunt Ginny even put it in writing. I think that includes violence, but I’ll check if you’d like?’

James drawled out a sigh. ‘That’s so not fair,’ he mumbled. Victoire grinned widely.

‘The real reason I came over was to ask Al – and Scorpius – if they wanted to join us down at the Quidditch Pitch. We’re all going. I was only joking about the sweets,’ he quickly added to his cousin and Scorpius. Victoire softened slightly and placed her hands on James’s shoulders.

‘That’s a nice idea. How about it, Al?’ Albus shook his head immediately.

‘My name is Albus and the answer is no. You know I hate flying, I hate Quidditch, and you seem to have all forgotten that I’m in a different house! I doubt you’ve forgotten, James. I saw your reaction last night,’ said Albus bitterly.

Victoire and James both frowned. It was only then that Albus noticed how similarly they looked to one another. He, Albus, didn’t look much like the Weasley side of the family at all. People only ever remarked on how closely he resembled his father, and he didn't have the Weasley red hair.

‘Come on, Al – Albus. It was just a shock, is all. You know, you’re the first in our family ever to be in – _Slytherin_. It takes some getting used to. Come flying with us. Please. It’ll be fun,’ tried James.

‘No, we can’t, sorry, and anyway, Scorpius and I are going on a tour of the castle and grounds. He knows the layout quite well, don’t you?’ Albus quickly shot a glance at Scorpius and narrowed his eyes slightly.

‘Y – yes, that’s right,’ stammered Scorpius, nodding a little too eagerly. He avoided Victoire and James’s eyes, but gently patted his copy of _Hogwarts: A History_.

Victoire and James left the Slytherin table looking more than a little gloomy. They re-joined the other Weasleys at the Gryffindor table, who shot pitied glances over at Albus and Scorpius, now deserted even by the other Slytherins. Rose rolled her eyes when she saw Scorpius looking over at her.

Although they hadn’t arranged to tour the castle that morning, Albus was quite glad of Scorpius’s company. It was strange the amount he knew about the castle without ever having stepped in it before. He’d throw out random bits of trivia whenever they passed a doorway or saw a view out of a window. Albus didn’t take much notice when Scorpius pointed out the Quidditch Pitch from a fifth floor window, though he did see little black specs flying around, most had flaming red hair.

Scorpius could also tell you which corridors to avoid for fear of Peeves hanging around, which staircases had an invisible step you had to jump over, and which portraits would send you in the wrong direction on purpose. Scorpius told Albus within the first five minutes of the tour that there were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts. It was difficult for Albus to keep up with Scorpius, both physically and mentally, it seemed. He rushed around pointing out things Albus would never have noticed, and his mind always seemed to be at least three steps ahead. His brain just didn’t stop or pause for a second, but it was nice for Albus to keep his mind occupied in such a way. He was thoroughly worn out the next day, and the two boys spent that Sunday resting and preparing for lessons beginning the next morning.

Albus decided on the first day of lessons that he didn’t like school very much. There was a lot more to magic than he first thought, it wasn’t just waving your wand and saying a few silly choice words.

They were thrown into a practical Transfiguration lesson first thing on Monday morning. Professor Turner was a grey-haired man with a thin face and small, beady eyes. He was rather eccentric, a buoyant person who was never still for more than a second. Within moments of taking the register he had already turned a quill into a dove, and his desk into a cow. Everyone gasped in amazement as he went about turning the classroom furniture into various animals and back again. He finished by conjuring up matches on every student’s desk. He then instructed them on how to change it into a needle, but told them they may find it hard at first. Transfiguration is a complex branch of magic, after all. By the end of the lesson, only Scorpius and Rose had made any difference to their matches. His had turned silvery and shiny and her’s was both silver and pointy at one end. Professor Turner was happy to award Gryffindor and Slytherin their first five points each.

Three times a week they went down to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology with Albus’s godfather, Professor Longbottom, a tall, round-faced man with a cheery smile. His smile only grew when Albus walked in.

‘The year I become Head of Gryffindor house is the year my godson is sorted into Slytherin. I’m cursed. You’ve cursed me, Al!’ he laughed, much to Albus’s chagrin. Albus only heard the snickers and giggles from the other students, but he tried not to show that Neville’s words had hurt him. Albus quickly noticed that the other students, Scorpius included, seemed to look at Professor Longbottom with an odd awestruck look in their eyes. That look was a familiar one to Albus, he had seen it his whole life. People always looked like that when his dad, or Uncle Ron or Aunt Hermione were around. Even worse if all three were together, which was often the case.

At midnight on Wednesdays they went up to one of the highest towers and studied the night sky using their telescopes. They learnt how to chart the stars and all about the movements of the planets. Scorpius was quick to point out to Albus the Scorpius constellation for which he was named.

History of Magic was particularly boring, Albus thought, though Scorpius lapped up all the new facts and dates they were being taught. Professor Binns, the former teacher, had finally retired a few years ago, and now took to haunting the staff room, where he had died many years ago, according to Scorpius. The new teacher, Professor Clio, seemed to enjoy droning on constantly. She had rather terrifying eyes which she cleverly hid behind a long fringe. Albus only saw her eyes when she stared down unfavourably upon him whenever she noticed he wasn’t scribbling down the dates of some Goblin Rebellion or Wizarding Civil War from centuries gone by.

Charms with Professor Flitwick was alright, but only because he wasn’t a very observant teacher. He was so small he had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. Professor Flitwick squeaked when he called out Rose’s name from the register declaring, ‘I have high hopes for you, Miss Granger-Weasley!’ He was right; Rose was easily the best at Charms.

The class Albus had been dreading most was Defence Against the Dark Arts. He could just imagine everyone turning in their seats to see if he was showing good knowledge and skill of the subject already. Or people wondering if his father had taught him any tricks. The Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher was a new appointment named Professor Goldstein, a kindly-looking man with square glasses. He spoke softly but with such passion that everyone was captivated and craned their necks to hear him fully. Finally, Albus thought, no expectations of me at all. It was a relief to say the least. It was only when they were getting up to leave that Professor Goldstein turned his attention to Albus.

‘And I’ve got Albus’s father to thank for my choice of career path,’ he said. ‘Harry Potter was the best Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher I ever had. And now I’m teaching his son!’ Albus hurried from the classroom as quickly as he could.

A small part of Albus had hoped that there would be someone worse than him. He had hoped that other people from wizard families would be as bad or as average as he was. Perhaps a Muggle-born with no previous knowledge of the wizarding world, but even they seemed to have a head start on Albus.

‘What have we got today?’ Albus asked Scorpius on Friday morning whilst helping himself to some bacon. Scorpius had memorised their timetable on the very first day.

‘Double Potions with the Gryffindors,’ Scorpius said promptly. His eyes flashed over to Rose who was eating a slice of toast. He then picked up a slice of toast for himself and took a few bites before speaking again. ‘We’ll finally get to meet the elusive Professor Slughorn. I’m certain the Head of house is meant to introduce him or herself. That’s the usual protocol. He’s a fair teacher, is old Slughorn, or at least I think he is. I doubt he’ll favour me much, though he might you.’

‘Me? Why would Slughorn favour me?’ said Albus.

‘Well you’re Albus Potter. You’ve a famous name. Top of his list for sure.’

Albus felt his stomach sink. I couldn’t bear that, Albus thought. Thankfully he wasn’t left to his thoughts for too long, as just then a handsome barn owl flew down from the ceiling with a note in its beak. He looked, his heart lifting a little, though it obviously wasn't what Albus had been hoping for. The owl dropped the note gently into Albus’s palm.

In rather untidy handwriting, the note read:

_Dear Albus,_

_Just checking you hadn’t forgotten about this afternoon. I want to hear all about your first week. I’ll have the tea ready. Come for around three._

_Hagrid_

Albus scribbled ‘I hadn’t forgotten. Looking forward to it. See you later,’ on the back of the note and placed it in the beak of the barn owl and sent it off again.

‘I had forgotten,’ Albus confessed to Scorpius.

Scorpius shrugged.

‘Stressful first week. It’s to be expected.’

‘I hope you realise you’re coming with me,’ said Albus, to which Scorpius grinned.

If Potions was as awful as Albus anticipated, at least he had tea at Hagrid’s to look forward to. He liked Hagrid. Hagrid had known Albus his whole life, and he was just such a loving and warm person. You’d struggle to find someone who didn’t like Hagrid.

Potions took place in dungeons not far from the Slytherin common room. They all quietly filed in and waited. Eventually Professor Slughorn bumbled in, trailing his left leg behind him as he walked. He began the lesson by taking the register, pausing at Rose, then Scorpius, then finally, Albus, whose name in particular he drawled out. His prominent eyes lit up and bulged right out.

‘So, I finally got a Potter,’ he whispered gleefully.

Professor Slughorn immediately put everyone into pairs. As their numbers were odd, Professor Slughorn had Rose join Albus and Scorpius at their table. She grumbled slightly, dragging her feet as she crossed the room to them. Polly Chapman pulled a face at Albus, who knew she had hoped to be paired with Rose.

‘We shall soon begin the practical part of this lesson, but first I wish to talk with you all, an introduction of sorts to the masterful art of potion-making,’ said Slughorn, massaging his large stomach as he spoke. ‘Some wizards do not deem potion-making to be actual magic, and I suppose there is some truth to that. There is little wand-waving or incantations to be uttered and memorised, but in this class you must be just as precise and exact. I will expect nothing less from any of you. Only the most astute among you could one day become accomplished potions masters – and mistresses,’ he quickly added on catching sight of Rose. She returned his affirmation with a wide grin.

‘First, a little test to see which of you have bothered to open your copies of _Magical Drafts and Potions_ ,’ chuckled Slughorn. ‘Of course, _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ can also come in useful in potion-making. Firstly, can anyone tell me where they would look if I told them to find me a bezoar?’

Scorpius and Rose’s hands immediately shot up. Scorpius smiled at Rose, immediately dropping his hand and giving way to her. She didn’t thank him.

‘Yes, Miss Granger-Weasley?’

‘A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat, Professor,’ chimed Rose, no doubt recited word for word from one of the textbooks Slughorn had mentioned.

‘Very good, Miss Granger-Weasley. Five points to Gryffindor!’

The Fairchild twins whooped and Polly Chapman looked gloatingly over at Albus.

‘But can anyone tell me the main use of a bezoar?’

Again, Scorpius and Rose’s hands shot up.

‘We’ve had ladies first,’ said Slughorn looking at Rose, who begrudgingly lowered her hand. ‘Mr Malfoy?’

‘A bezoar acts as an antidote to most common poisons, Professor Slughorn,’ said Scorpius. 'Golpalott's Third Law is rather complex to get your head around, but - er - my understanding is that a bezoar is a quick solution to cure the majority of poisons. It therefore appears in the list of ingredients for all authentic antidotes.' 

‘Golpalott's Third Law, I say! A first year knowing about Golpalott, never in my many years at this school ... That's advanced, Mr Malfoy. Well done! And nicely phrased too. Five points to Slytherin!’

‘I suppose you knew that too, didn’t you?’ Slughorn said to Rose, who nodded with a bitter expression on her face. Her teeth were bared. ‘But of course, you’d have known that from when your father was poisoned? I imagine that story is still doing the rounds in your family. Right in my office it was, before my very eyes. If it wasn’t for Albus’s father, Harry Potter, your father would’ve died right then and there! Stuffed a bezoar right down his throat, did Harry. Quick wits are what you need in the noble art of potion-making,’ he said, at last turning to the rest of the class. He looked back at Rose. ‘So, Miss Granger-Weasley, is that how you knew about the properties of a bezoar?’

Rose shook her head.

‘No, sir. I just read the set textbooks.’

Professor Slughorn looked suitably defeated.

Slughorn set the first-years the task of making a simple potion to cure boils. He trailed around telling the students where they could improve. He complimented Rose for her precision when weighing the dry nettles, and the fineness of the snake fang powder which Scorpius had just crushed. He looked crestfallen when Albus had to stew the horned slugs for a third time. With a few minutes of the lesson to go and in a bid to impress, Albus added the horned slugs and stirred the thin potion three times, just as the textbook instructed. The slugs began to dissolve, fizzing and bubbling around, leaving nothing but the horns.

‘Wait, Albus. Did you just – ’

The cauldron suddenly hissed and spat out a few large drops of potion.

Rose jumped back in pain as the scalding hot potion landed on her hands. Immediately, large, painful-looking boils sprang up all over them. Some of the larger ones burst as others formed underneath. Rose screamed as Scorpius grabbed hold of her wrists, holding her hands up high, away from her body. The tears were streaming down her face. Albus stood back in horror.

Slughorn bumbled over to them carrying a dropper full of antidote. He squirted it generously onto Rose’s hands and looked on as the boils began to shrink.

‘There we are,’ he said, though Rose’s hands still looked red and swollen and still full of pus. ‘I suppose you didn’t let the horned slugs stew for long enough. The horns need to evaporate before you add them to the mixture. Easy mistake to make, Albus, don’t look downtrodden! This is only your first lesson. I’m sure even your father made mistakes in his first year, but he proved to be a master of potions under my tutelage.’

Rose’s fingers were fat and tender looking.

‘You had better get yourself up to the Hospital Wing, Miss Granger-Weasley. Madam Pomfrey will want a look at those hands. I imagine she’ll soak some bandages in Dittany. Alas, I do not yet have a batch made up, otherwise I would have done just that. Could you accompany Miss Granger-Weasley, Miss …?’

‘Polly Chapman, sir.’

‘Miss Chapman, my apologies.’

Polly Chapman picked up Rose’s belongings, glowering at Albus and Scorpius as she did. They left, Polly trying her best to look sympathetic, though it wasn’t a natural expression on her face.

Rose and Polly returned to lessons later that day, Rose with her hands all thick and bandaged. Karl Jenkins practically ran to her in the Great Hall at lunch to check if she was alright. He even offered to carry her books and bag between lessons. Scorpius scoffed and fidgeted when he saw them together.

At round five to three, Albus and Scorpius left the Slytherin common room and walked down to Hagrid’s little wooden house on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. His house seemed very old. The wood was mossy and damp and in much need of repair, though in some places it looked rotten. Outside was a crossbow and a large pair of scuffed and tatty boots which had seen better days.

Albus knocked twice and a few moments later Hagrid appeared.

He smiled. ‘Al!’ he said. ‘Good to see yer – and who’s this?’

‘This is my friend, Hagrid. Scorpius Malfoy,’ said Albus.

Hagrid’s smile quickly disappeared.

‘A Malfoy, eh?’

‘Hello!’ chirped Scorpius.

‘Err – yeah – come in then. You can both join us,’ said Hagrid.

He stood back and let Albus and Scorpius in, casting Scorpius a wary glance as he went by.

‘Bringing a Malfoy down to see me,’ muttered Hagrid so that no one could hear him, though they all did.

To their surprise, Rose was already sitting in one of the large armchairs. She looked swamped amongst the huge cushions. A giant mug of tea, the size of a barrel, was placed on the table beside her. Albus doubted if she could actually pick it up. Hagrid offered Albus and Scorpius chairs, though he seemed more than a little put out at Scorpius being there.

‘Hi Rose,’ said Scorpius. ‘Are your hands any better?’

Rose grumbled a response and half stuck out her hands to show them both. Scorpius’s expression was one of genuine concern. Albus didn’t dare look at Rose’s hands.

‘Yer were about to say, Rosie. What did happen to yer hands?’

Albus found a small spot on the wooden floor of Hagrid’s hut and focused on it, whilst Rose began her story. He wondered if the pain were really as bad as Rose described, or whether she was merely exaggerating. Either way, Albus still felt bad. If only he’d waited those extra few seconds for the horns to stew properly, they may even have had the best potion in class. Instead, Rose had been hurt and everyone had witnessed him humiliate himself.

‘Ah, mistakes happen, I suppose,’ said Hagrid kindly, glancing over at Albus. Albus shot him a quick smile. Rose merely shrugged and pouted her lips.

‘Be thankful there’s no permanent scarring, Rosie, and the redness should go down in a day or two.'

Rose rolled her eyes as soon as Hagrid took a gulp from his mug. There then came a loud high-pitched yelp from the corner of the room which made them all jump. Hagrid chuckled as he got to his feet. He returned with a small bundle of fur which looked tiny in his giant hands.

‘Mr Hagrid,’ said Scorpius excitedly, ‘is that a Crup puppy?’

Hagrid reeled his head back slightly.

‘You know yer magical beasts then, Malfoy?’

‘Looks like some sort of terrier to me,’ chimed in Albus, still somewhat eager to impress.

‘No, look, Albus,’ said Scorpius. He stretched out a long pale finger and pointed at the tail of the puppy. ‘Crups have forked tails.’

He withdrew his finger carefully, wary of being bitten, though the puppy now seemed to be snoozing.

After that, Hagrid didn’t seem as cold towards Scorpius.

Hagrid placed the Crup on his own bed, and they all watched as it nestled itself into the thick blankets. Before long the Crup started to dream; flexing out its little paws and vigorously wagging its tail.

‘After Fang – yer know – I didn’t want another dog for a while,’ said Hagrid, with tears in his eyes. ‘Then las’ week I met some breeder down in the Three Broomsticks, the dodgy sort. She said this one ‘ere was the runt of the litter – an’ she wanted to dock his tail and pass ‘im off as some Jack Russell in the hopes that some Muggle family would buy ‘im. Well I couldn’t have that now, could I? So I bought the little mite from her right then and there.’

‘Have you got a name for him yet, Mr Hagrid?’ asked Scorpius.

‘Err – no – not yet. I was thinking about Fido, but haven't set my mind on it just yet.’

Scorpius nodded.

‘I like it!’

Albus and Rose seemed less enthused, though they still agreed.

Half an hour later they all left, arms heavy with inedible rock buns Hagrid had made them take away for a light snack. The three lumbered them up to the castle to find a safe place to dispose of them.

‘I hope Hagrid is planning on getting a licence for that Crup,’ said Rose with her nose high in the air. She took a deep breath. ‘My mum worked in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and she was forever telling me about some old witch having to pay a hefty fine for not applying for a Crup License.’

Scorpius seemed eager to chat, but Rose now looked disinterested. When they had disposed of the rock buns, Rose turned to leave – not in the direction of the Gryffindor common room (which Scorpius had shown Albus the entrance to), but instead the owlery.

‘Where are you going, Rose? I hope you’re not going to tell on Hagrid,’ said Albus.

‘Al! I would never do that. If you must know, I’m going to write a letter telling mum about that illegal Crup breeder down in Hogsmeade. Not that it’s any of your business what I do,’ Rose snapped. And with that she was gone.

When Albus and Scorpius returned to the Slytherin common room, Craig Bowker was waiting by the window which looked out into the lake.

‘Albus, Scorpius,’ he said, beaming. ‘These are for you.’

He handed Scorpius an envelope, and Albus two. One was formal-looking, emerald green in colour. The other was pale yellow, with neat little writing on the front. The first was identical to Scorpius’s. It read:

_Albus,_

_I would be most delighted if you would join me next Friday evening in my office for the first party of the year. My parties are well-renowned, and it is considered an honoured privilege to attend one._

_You may bring a guest._

_Sincerely,_

_Professor H. E. F. Slughorn_

‘Told you,’ said Scorpius, seeming rather pleased. Albus had never seen him smirk before. ‘I knew you’d be invited to join the Slug Club. I’m shocked that I was given an invite though. He must have let old grievances slide. What’s that second letter?’

Albus had instantly recognised the handwriting on the front, but he really didn’t want to open it just now.

‘It’s probably rubbish,’ he said to Scorpius. ‘A prank from James or something.’

‘All the same, shouldn’t you open it? Haven’t you been waiting for a letter from your parents?’

‘No,’ snapped Albus. ‘Sorry,’ he quickly added, noticing Scorpius’s frown. ‘I – I’ll read it later.’

Albus put the letter in his trunk as soon as they entered their dormitory. It was right at the bottom, beneath his socks and winter cloak. Scorpius had taken out his copy of _Fantastic Beasts and Where t_ _o Find Them._ No doubt he was reading about Crups, Albus thought, though he didn’t care to ask.


	4. The Slytherin Squib

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus and Scorpius attend their first flying lesson, which doesn't quite go to plan. (Dialogue from the Cursed Child spliced in.)
> 
> They also attend Professor Slughorn's first party of the year, where Albus finds reassurance, but the night ends badly for them both.
> 
>  
> 
> I may or may not have based Madam Hooch on an old P.E. teacher who loathed me, but not quite as much as I loathed her.

Albus had never believed he could feel more jealous of Rose than he had growing up. Their rivalry had begun at such a young age. Grandma and Granddad Weasley doted on their little _Rosie_ , and people had always looked at her like she so very advanced for her age, despite only being a few months older than Albus. They had been compared, always. They had been best friends when they were six, but that had fizzled out rather quickly and Rose had resumed to bossing him about once more.

As the weeks before school began dwindling away, Albus naturally found himself latching on to her once more. He hoped she would take control and protect him, keep him steady and on the right path. And Rose was more than happy to boss Albus around. Perhaps her confidence would rub off onto him, he had thought. A small part of Albus had hoped they could be friends at Hogwarts, but that all went right out the train window.

He had met Scorpius, and Albus had truly never been happier. Albus had latched himself onto Scorpius far more quickly and more comfortably than he had Rose.

Rose had found friends too, so Albus didn’t feel too bad that he had essentially abandoned her on the Hogwarts Express. She went around with her fellow Gryffindors, sneering Polly Chapman, Yann Fredericks, Hugh Capewell and the Fairchild twins. They moved as one, a pack of wolves – no, a pride of lions, Albus thought to himself.

Friendship, like everything else it seemed, came easy to Rose. Other than Scorpius, Rose was the best in every class. Albus might have imagined it, but he was sure the teachers were comparing them even now. Whispers and slight murmurs seemed to follow him, alongside concerned glances and worried expressions.

Thankfully, Albus and Scorpius only had a few lessons with the Gryffindors, that was until they saw a notice hanging in the Slytherin common room at their start of their second week. Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday afternoon – a mixture of the houses would be learning together.

‘Great,’ sighed Albus. ‘I bet I’ll make a fool of myself on a broom in front of Rose and her new-found friends.’ He had been least looking forward to learning to fly more than anything else.

‘Stop it!’ squeaked Scorpius. ‘With parents like yours? Harry Potter, the youngest Seeker in over a century – the best Seeker Hogwarts has ever had! He’s still a record-holder, you know? I lost count of all the Quidditch cups, medals and trophies with his name on down in the Trophy Room.’

Albus turned and went to sit in one of the uncomfortable armchairs by the fireplace. He groaned loudly and pulled a sour face. Scorpius hesitated, then followed, his brow furrowed as he crossed the common room.

‘Come on, Albus. Stop with your pouting.’

Albus looked up, slightly affronted.

‘It’s in your blood,’ said Scorpius. ‘I mean, look at your mum. She played for the Holyhead Harpies for all those years. They were champions three years running, and now she’s Quidditch Correspondent for the Daily Prophet.’

‘Exactly. Everyone’ll be looking at me wondering if I share the same talent as them all, and I don’t, I really don’t. Rose, on the other hand, is a natural. Honestly, you should see her whizzing about all over the place. Uncle Ron bought her a broomstick when she was two. Two! I can’t even hold one right. I really don’t like flying at all.’

‘And you don’t have to,’ insisted Scorpius. ‘You are your own person, Albus. Either way, some of it may have just rubbed off on you. The power of osmosis is a strange thing.’

Albus sat up in the armchair, dropping his shoulders and sitting up straight. He smiled and nodded at Scorpius.

‘Aren’t you just the teeniest bit nervous though, Scorpius?’

Scorpius shrugged and began tugging anxiously at his jumper sleeve. Albus noticed he did that quite a lot, but didn’t like to make a thing of it. It would only embarrass Scorpius. He, Albus, would have hated to have his awkward little quirks brought up in conversation.

The left cuff of Scorpius’s jumper was looking a little frayed and pulled completely out of shape just two weeks into the first term. He had obviously realised himself, as in recent days he had started tucking in the sleeve a little, though it kept coming undone. Thankfully his robes covered it during lessons, and robes were much harder to bend out of shape.

Scorpius took a deep breath.

‘I’m not sure. It might be nerves, or maybe excitement. Maybe both! Everything is sort of bubbling up inside of me, fizzing about. See, I – err – I was never allowed to fly when I was younger,’ said Scorpius, nervously biting his bottom lip and scratching at his flaxen hair. ‘My parents always deemed it to be too risky and dangerous, and suggested I’d be better off with my head in a book. They thought that the safer option, and I can’t blame them. I don’t think I’ve even held a broom before. So, I suppose I’m excited – I think.’

Albus shot Scorpius a comforting smile.

All the Weasleys were good at flying. Every summer Albus had known had been filled with flying and friendly Quidditch games in his grandparent’s orchard in the paddock up the hill. His parents, James and Lily, all his cousins, and aunts and uncles played. They forgot the official rules and often played ten-a-side, except for Albus. He preferred sitting looking on from the sidelines, usually underneath one of the apple trees – alone – not that he particularly enjoyed that aspect.

He knew other wizard families had grown up doing the same, but Albus couldn’t help but feel a certain pressure where flying and Quidditch was concerned. His was a world-renowned sporting family, and Albus simply couldn’t bear it.

Albus hadn’t received a single letter since the first week, which he still hadn’t opened. He thought of it often, but a haze of bitterness and anger would then descend and he tried his best to push it to the back of his mind. And so the letter from his parents was left lying at the bottom of his trunk, beneath his winter cloak, socks, and a pile of school books.

Scorpius had received at least four letters from home in that short time. They were often accompanied by small colourful boxes brimming with sweets and neatly tied with a ribbon – a different colour for each day. Albus watched every morning as Scorpius sheepishly opened up each package, nervously looking about to see if anyone had noticed.

Albus couldn’t help but watch his family every morning over at the Gryffindor table. If Victoire noticed she’d smile and wave, but everyone else ignored him. Rose sometimes looked over at the Slytherin table and their eyes would meet. Neither smiled, but Albus felt a sense of great awkwardness pass between. Rose would quickly turn away when Scorpius looked in her direction.

James received a letter that morning. Albus watched him sit hunched over it, taking great care to read every word. Albus could tell it was at least a few pages long. James left the Great Hall without warning soon after, hastily folding the pieces of parchment and stuffing them inside his robes. For the first time ever, it seemed, James was not happy to share with Fred and Louis, who Albus had guessed were reading the contents of the letter over his shoulders. Though Albus waited, no new letter arrived for him.

*

At three-thirty that afternoon Albus and Scorpius left the Slytherin common room and went out into the grounds for their first flying lesson. It was a cold but clear day and the grass felt slightly slippy and damp under their feet.

The Gryffindors were already there. There were a handful of Ravenclaws and a few Hufflepuffs too. Rose and all of her gang were present. She was stood beside Polly Chapman, who bared her teeth at Albus and Scorpius as they both went and stood a little away from the perfectly lined up broomsticks.

Madam Hooch, their teacher, then arrived. She was a severe-looking woman, with short, grey hair and bright yellow eyes. Albus dared not look at her directly.

‘Well, what are you all waiting for?’ barked Madam Hooch. ‘Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up.’

Scorpius sprinted over to a broom and Albus reluctantly followed. He couldn’t help but feel completely exposed standing there, one of only two Slytherins, standing next to the other first-years, who didn’t look at all nervous.

‘Stick out your hands over your broom, and say, “Up!”’ growled Madam Hooch.

‘UP!’ everyone shouted at once.

Rose’s broom jumped into her hand at once, but it was the only one that did.

‘Yes!’ she cried gleefully.

Scorpius’s broom lurched slightly, as did Polly Chapman’s and Caleb Fairchild’s. Albus’s hadn’t moved at all. He wondered if brooms could sense fear, but then he thought that was a rather silly thing to think.

‘Come on now, I’ve no time for shirkers!’ shouted Madam Hooch. ‘Say “UP”. “UP” like you mean it,’ she barked directly at Albus.

Again, they all shouted ‘UP!’ This time Albus really concentrated. He looked down at his broom, trying to empty his mind of all thoughts of fear and worry, but his broom didn’t move a millimetre.

Scorpius’s broom sailed into his hand instantly. He beamed with pride. Scorpius looked about, taking the broom into both hands and made a sweeping motion in Rose’s direction. He smirked and winked awkwardly. Rose looked like she wanted to be sick.

The other brooms all twitched and jumped into the hands of the other Gryffindors. They all whooped and cheered. Polly Chapman’s was the last to go.

Albus found himself looking around despairingly at the others, now all standing gawping at him with their brooms in their hands. His lay still at his feet. Still, motionless, as if glued to the lawn.

He looked down at the broom, tears welling in his eyes. ‘Up. UP. UP!’ he pleaded, but the broom refused to move. Albus felt eyes on him from all around. There were yet more whispers and murmurs, which eventually descended into rather loud giggles. Polly Chapman’s laugh was the loudest and the shrillest.

‘Oh, Merlin’s beard, how humiliating!’ she gloated. ‘He really isn’t like his father at all, is he?’ She threw her head back in a cackle. Rose looked on beside her, frowning. She was holding onto her broom so tightly her knuckles had turned white.

Karl Jenkins then stepped forward, inching himself ever closer to the big group of Gryffindors.

‘Albus Potter, the Slytherin Squib!’ said Karl. Polly laughed louder, but Karl immediately looked regretful and avoided Albus’s eyeline.

Scorpius half-heartedly stepped towards Karl brandishing his broom firmly in his hands. He narrowed his eyes a little, though Scorpius Malfoy could never truly look menacing. He looked at Albus, then Rose, and thought better of it. He brought his broom down a little before stepping back into the line and frowning at the floor.

‘Albus Potter!’ cried Madam Hooch. ‘Where is your broom?’

The laughter died, but all eyes were still trained on Albus, whose fists were tightly clenched. He could feel himself rocking on the spot and his bottom lip trembling. He hoped the others had not noticed. Albus pointed helplessly at his broom on the floor.

‘That was a rhetorical question, Mr Potter. I can clearly see where your broomstick is, and where it is not,’ snarled Madam Hooch. ‘Would you mind explaining to myself and the rest of the class why it is not in your hand?’

‘I don’t know. I – I couldn’t. It wouldn’t, I – ’

‘How very disappointing! Well if your heart isn’t in it, Mr Potter, you had better go. I want no time-wasters, absolutely not. That goes for you all,’ she snapped, turning to others, whose smirks quickly disappeared.

‘Go on. Go!’ she barked, looking back at Albus. She pointed at a rusty bench on the sidelines. ‘I wonder what your mother and father would say?’

‘Okay, children! Time to fly!’ shouted Madam Hooch as Albus walked away.

He sat down on the bench and sighed. Albus watched Madam Hooch walking up and down the lines of first-years, correcting their grips on the brooms, he guessed. As it turned out, Rose and Scorpius were the only two who didn’t need help. Madam Hooch then blew her whistle. It made Albus’s heart lurch as it went screaming around the grounds.

At once everyone kicked off the ground. Rose went highest, closely followed by Scorpius, his blond hair blowing in the autumn breeze. Albus watched everyone lean forward slightly, bringing them all straight back down.

Madam Hooch whistled again and again, every time daring the first-years to go higher and higher. She was like a hawk with her young fledglings. They all ascended into the sky until they were specs amongst the clouds. Albus couldn’t bear to look a second longer. He must’ve looked like an ant to them.

He wondered why his broom had refused to obey him. Could they sense fear and nerves, he wondered again, or was it stupid to project so much onto an old branch and twigs? They had to have some clever magic in them, he thought, but he did not know what exactly. He was sure Scorpius would tell him if he asked, or Rose, but Albus didn’t care for an answer, truly. He was sure he was at fault whatever it was.

Albus had flown before, of course he had. He flew best at home in their garden, just him and his mum. She flew like a butterfly, graceful and beautiful, gliding around, the sunlight getting captured in her red hair. He had only seen his dad fly a few times on his brief time off work and on holidays at the Burrow. They had tried teaching him – the Weasleys too – but Albus didn’t like flying. It made him feel queasy and dizzy, like he’d fall off at any moment. But Polly Chapman was right. It was still humiliating.

‘Are you okay, Albus?’ suddenly came a voice. Albus looked up to see Scorpius strolling towards him. The corners of his mouth were frowning slightly.

‘Scorpius? What’s wrong?’

Scorpius put a hand to his stomach.

‘As it turns out, flying doesn’t agree with me. My stomach feels all twisty and turny, and I was forced to come straight down. Madam Hooch isn’t very happy with me either.’

‘Really? You don’t seem ill, and you looked like a natural to me,’ said Albus coolly.

Scorpius sighed. The rusty bench creaked as he sat down beside Albus. His fingers twitched.

‘Or maybe I’ve just picked up a few tips from _Quidditch Through the Ages_? Though Mr Whisp does forget to mention flying sickness, funnily enough. You should give that book a read, you know. You might just enjoy it,’ said Scorpius.

‘I doubt that very much. No doubt _Mr Whisp_ has written a new edition on the flying accomplishments of my dad. Or my mum. Or both. Both record-holders. Both excellent flyers,’ said Albus darkly.

‘I don’t know about that, but I’m sure your mum is mentioned in one of his later works. _Hanging with the Harpies_ , I think it’s called. Yes, that was a good read, actually, I – Albus? Where are you going? Class isn’t over!’

But Albus was long gone. Scorpius finally caught up with Albus at dinner that evening. He was still looking glum and had barely touched his food. Scorpius didn’t speak much. Albus could tell he felt awkward, and so did he.

‘I’m sorry about earlier, Albus. Truly, I am. I’m a witterer – I witter on. My mouth just runs away with itself sometimes. I know I said the wrong thing.’

Albus looked up and forced out a smile.

‘I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have stormed off like that,’ he said.

Scorpius shrugged and placed a hand on Albus’s shoulder. They grinned at each other before Albus helped himself to some treacle tart, his favourite.

Scorpius talked to Albus through mouthfuls of cake about the flying lesson and what he had overheard. Polly Chapman was telling anyone who’d listen that Karl Jenkins fancied Rose. Scorpius seemed a little affronted by the rumour, though he shrugged it off when Albus asked him why he cared so much.

‘I don’t care, Albus! It’s just – Karl Jenkins? – Blergh,’ said Scorpius, making a face like he wanted to vomit. ‘I mean really, he’s not Rose’s type at all.’

‘And what exactly is her type?’ laughed Albus.

‘Well – well, not her type exactly, but I think Rose deserves someone kind and intelligent and – ’

‘Albus, could I have a word with you a minute?’

Albus and Scorpius looked up to find James standing there. He was smiling, but it wasn’t his usual mischievous grin. It was a friendly, comforting sort of smile.

‘In private,’ James quickly added. ‘No offence, Scorpius. Maybe out in the Entrance Hall?’

Albus quickly got to his feet and met his brother outside the doors of the Great Hall. James was stood with his hands behind his back, and Albus thought he had never looked more like their dad.

‘James? What is it? What's happened?’

‘Don’t worry, it’s nothing serious. Well not really. Mum sent me this.’

James went into one of the inside pockets of his robes and took out a small square of parchment. He unfolded it and passed it to Albus.

‘She’s worried about you, but won’t say why exactly. She’s waiting for your owl.’

Albus shook his head and clenched his fist.

‘One letter I got. One stupid letter. You get three a week, Dad was happy to tell me. They couldn’t even be bothered to after – well, it doesn’t matter now.

‘Al – Albus, I get it. You’re angry about flying today but when you’ve calmed down would you reply to Mum?'

Albus threw James’s letter to the floor and stormed off back into the Great Hall.

‘Please, Albus!’ James called after him. ‘Wait!’

Albus marched back to his seat and pushed his plate away harshly. It clashed off the other plates and glasses.

‘Nothing serious, I hope,’ said Scorpius inquisitively.

‘It was nothing, really. It was nothing at all,’ said Albus.

*

Whispers followed Albus the next day. News seemed to have spread around the entire school that the famous Harry Potter’s son was awful at flying.

Polly Chapman was unbearable in Potions that morning. Sneering and giggling over at Albus, gloatingly squealing ‘Up! Up!’ when Professor Slughorn left the dungeons for a short moment. Scorpius was more than happy to make the mild Pepperup Potion himself. Without any contribution from Albus, their potion got full marks and so ten points was awarded to Slytherin. Scorpius merely grumbled, much to Albus’s pleasure.

Albus and Scorpius slowly packed away their ingredients, allowing the others to leave before them. Scorpius had suggested this as a way of avoiding glares and whispers. Rose looked mournfully over her shoulder as Polly Chapman dragged her from the dungeons, their arms linked tightly together.

‘Quick sticks, boys,’ said Professor Slughorn. ‘You’ll be late for lunch.’

The two nodded as they stuffed their books into their bags.

‘And remember,’ Slughorn hastily added. ‘My party, my little get-together this evening. You will be attending, won’t you? Both of you?’

‘Yes, of course, sir,’ said Scorpius. Albus mumbled a ‘yes,’ to which Professor Slughorn beamed and patted his enormous stomach.

‘Fantastic. Brilliant, absolutely brilliant,’ said Albus dryly as they entered the Slytherin common room to drop off their bags. ‘I forgot about the party. Why did he have to invite me for – us for?’

Scorpius shrugged.

‘You never know, Albus, it might be fun. I’ve heard Professor Slughorn invites ex-students, old favourites, celebrities and the like. Think of who we could meet!’ His face suddenly broke out into a smile. ‘What about Rose? Do you think Rose will be there?’

‘How should I know?’ moped Albus. ‘Who else do you think he’s invited?’

‘Famous names, I bet. But if Rose is invited, the rest of your cousins will be too.’

'Great. Just… great,’ sighed Albus.

Scorpius counted down the hours, minutes and seconds until it was an appropriate time to leave. He was sitting on one of the uncomfortable armchairs by the fire, rocking his leg furiously. He hadn’t even started his Potions homework, which was most unusual for him.

Albus chose to start his homework, but as it required the collection of three or more ingredients for a Wiggenweld Potion he was forced to leave it unfinished. Whereas Scorpius couldn’t wait for the party to begin, Albus didn’t want to go at all. He desperately wished he hadn’t completed the rest of his homework earlier in the week as now he had no excuse for not attending Slughorn’s party.

At about half seven Scorpius ran down into the dormitory. He came back a few minutes later, puffing and panting, with a cheery smile on his face.

‘All ready to go then, Albus?’

‘Have you done something to your hair?’

Scorpius bowed his head as his cheeks reddened. His hair looked wet and glossy, and like it had been combed back. There was a slight green tinge to it from the emerald lighting above.

‘Is it that noticeable? Does it look silly? Mum says you should always try to impress. “First impressions are everything!”’ he said gleefully, half singing his mother’s words. ‘We’ve no idea who else is going. What an exciting prospect.’

‘Not silly, just different,’ Albus said, shaking his head.

Scorpius beamed and straightened his robes.

‘And not exciting at all,’ Albus added under his breath.

They left the common room together, and a few short minutes later they were stood outside of Professor Slughorn’s office. The door was an old one, panelled, and with very detailed miniature snakes engraved all over. But the curious thing was there was no handle, just solid oak.

Albus was more than ready to head back to the common room but Scorpius held him back. He cleared his throat, and knocked three times. In a rather solemn voice the door suddenly spoke.

‘Names?’ it asked. Albus had never heard a door speak before, and nor had Scorpius it seemed. Scorpius again cleared his throat. He looked about before leaning in closer to the door.

‘Scorpius Malfoy and…’

‘Albus Potter,’ said Albus slowly. This had to be a trick, surely? Doors don’t speak.

The door sighed. ‘You may enter,’ it said carelessly.

The door clicked and immediately swung open. Scorpius quickly hurried in, followed by a reluctant Albus. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn’t this.

Professor Slughorn’s office was larger than Albus had been expecting, bigger than any of the classrooms. The floor was made up of large black marble slabs, and the walls were covered in hangings of green, blue, yellow and red. It looked like a giant circus tent. The office was packed. In the centre of the room was a large antique golden lamp. It was suspended in the air by magic; there were no wires or strings keeping it up, and inside were about a thousand tiny fairies, all fluttering about, bathing the room in shiny golden light.

A large piano was in one corner. It played itself, and draped over it was a thin white-haired witch. Her hair aged her, but the witch’s face was a youthful one. The witch’s wand was pointed at her throat. From her mouth came a magically amplified voice, but it was croaky and strained, and a little off-key. The witch was singing some ballad Albus was sure he had heard being played on the radio at the Burrow.

There were lots of older, unfamiliar students huddled in groups around the room. They had all turned to stare when Albus and Scorpius entered. Some of them giggled, but they quickly went back to their conversations. There were adults there too. There were some professors present, and Albus noticed a few friends of his parents were there too.

In another corner was a small person signing autographs. A large crowd had gathered around and it was impossible to see who it was. Close to the piano was a tall, pale man with thin lips and dark, sunken eyes. The other students seemed to be looking at him fearfully as he licked his lips.

‘Albus, m’boy! Scorpius!’ boomed a voice. It took a moment for Albus to realise the piano had not come to life and was not striding across the room towards them; it was Professor Slughorn. He was wearing black velvet robes with the largest sleeves Albus had ever seen. There was a wide grin on his face. He looked truly happy, revelling in the attention and party atmosphere, and was obviously very pleased with the turnout. As he walked over he took a glass from a nearby serving house-elf wearing a pristine white waiter’s outfit.

‘I’m so glad you could both make it. I do hope the other Slytherins weren’t jealous of your invites. As a whole they are rather lacking, it’s a shame, a great shame. Slytherin is a most noble house, but they don’t quite have the same talent or prestige as you both,’ said Slughorn.

Talent and prestige? Scorpius was the talent, no doubt, Albus thought to himself. The only prestigious thing about him was his name.

‘No partners? No matter. There’s always next time!’ said Slughorn.

He seized Albus by the arm and began pointing about the room. He declared it was Gwenog Jones, the former captain of the Holyhead Harpies, signing autographs in the corner. Albus had met her before on numerous occasions. She was his mother’s personal hero, after all. The tall man near the piano was Sanguini, a well-standing vampire, who Slughorn had apparently known for many years. Professor Slughorn pointed out a few other apparently well-known celebrities who were all dotted about the room. There were six famous Quidditch players, two ex-Aurors, three Healers who worked at St Mungo’s, and even a writer, who, Slughorn told them, was very keen to pen a biography on the life of his old potions master.

‘Ahh, here come the Weasleys,’ said Slughorn. He strode past Albus and Scorpius to greet them.

Beautiful Victoire was at the front, closely followed by Dominque, whose posture closely mirrored her sister’s. No one could help but look at them both. James followed, and Fred and Louis followed him, a girl each on their arm. Roxanne was near the back, but Rose was last. She cautiously surveyed the office before noticing Albus and Scorpius and hurrying over to them.

‘Hi,’ she said nervously.

‘Hi!’ cried Scorpius, while Albus merely grumbled a response

‘I wasn’t sure about coming, but James said it might be fun. I wondered if you’d be invited, Al,’ she said, completely blanking Scorpius.

Scorpius looked down and shuffled his feet.

‘Famous name,’ answered Albus bitterly.

‘Yes, perhaps,’ said Rose. ‘That’s why we’re all here, I guess, unless you’ve made a good first impression.’ Her eyes wandered in Scorpius’s direction.

‘I think Professor Slughorn must’ve used an Extension Charm on this room. And did you see his door? Very impressive. Of course, we won’t learn such things until our N.E.W.T. year probably,’ said Rose, wringing her hands together.

‘I – I thought the same,’ smiled Scorpius. His eyes did not meet Rose’s.

‘No partner?’

‘Clearly. I decided against it in the end, but Fred and Louis have each brought someone,’ she giggled.

‘Why are you laughing, Rose?’ said Albus.

She moved closer to him before speaking again, facing Albus so no one could read her expression.

‘It’s pathetic really. They’re both Gryffindors and in third year. That tallish one with Fred is Ida, and Lyssie’s the smaller one with glasses who Louis is keeping a tight grip on. I bet it’ll be a peculiar sensation when Louis realises,’ laughed Rose, ‘I think this is the first time in his life a person hasn’t fancied him. And Ida doesn’t like Fred either, at least not in that way.’

‘But they’re with them, aren’t they?’

‘Well they are now, but everyone knows it’s James they both fancy! Everyone fancies James!’ she cried, responding to Albus’s blank expression. ‘I mean, look, Fred is talking at length to Ida and she’s not giving him the time of day. She’s looking at James, who’s talking to Gwenog now, look. According to Victoire he never brings anyone, so this is a way for them to get closer to him, I suspect.’

Scorpius joined in with her giggles, but Rose silenced him with a single look.

They talked a while longer, Rose pointing out other students every so often and telling Albus and Scorpius who they were or who they were related to. Rose only went to re-join the other Weasleys when Roxy beckoned her over.

‘Well… talk to you both later,’ she said, smiling anxiously, and off she wandered.

‘Bye, Rose,’ they both said. ‘That was nice,’ said Scorpius with a trace of hope in his voice.

‘If you say so,’ Albus mumbled in return.

Albus was about to suggest leaving when out from the crowd came Professor Longbottom. He was beaming at them both.

‘Hullo, you two,’ he said cheerfully. He took a sip from the bubbling glass in his hand.

‘I enjoyed your essay on the safeguarding and protection of plants and herbs, Scorpius. Extra marks for your the description of the effects of Flobberworm mucus on Bouncing Bulbs,’ said Professor Longbottom.

Scorpius smiled and humbly thanked him.

‘Say Al, could I have a word a moment? Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble,’ he quickly added.

Professor Longbottom guided Albus over into the centre of the room, and stopped directly beneath the giant fairy lantern. Albus felt uncomfortable standing there, flooded with light and where everyone could watch him. His body wanted to fidget like Scorpius’s often did.

Professor Longbottom took a deep breath.

‘James was talking to me just now. He’s worried about you, and so are your mum and dad.’

‘James? Worried about me? I don’t think James worries about much if I’m honest, Professor Longbottom,’ said Albus.

‘ _Neville_ , Al, please. There’s no need when it’s just us,’ he said. ‘You greatly underestimate James if you think he doesn’t worry about anything at all. He’s your big brother, he cares about you. He’s not as carefree as he makes out, believe me, it’s all a façade. I know he’s worried, and he says you’re distancing yourself from them all.’

‘Well I was never really close to them before.’

‘Hogwarts is a big place, Al. It can get lonely. I know that. I’m glad you have Scorpius,’ said Neville, putting an arm around Albus. ‘Is this about being in Slytherin?’ he asked earnestly.

‘I don’t think – err – yes. That’s a part of it, I suppose,’ said Albus. He felt like there was something rising in his throat, and his eyes stung a little.

‘I thought it might be,’ said Neville. ‘I wrote to your mum and dad right after the Sorting Ceremony. They flooed right into my office that night, both so worried about how you were doing. But I told them not to worry and to go home. I said I would take you under my wing – my duty as your godfather – you could say,’ he said.

Albus was stunned. His parents had both come to check on him? His dad too?

‘I’ll let you in on a secret, but you must promise not to breathe a word to anyone. Promise?’

Albus nodded.

‘I desperately wanted to be in Hufflepuff when I got here. My poor parents were Gryffindors, both brave and daring, and I wasn't sure I had the nerve. Hufflepuff seemed like the ideal house to me. I was quiet and shy, and more than a little clumsy back then. The thought of being in Gryffindor terrified me. So much to live up to. Then the Sorting Hat spoke to me, and picked apart bits of my mind I didn’t even know were there. It said it sensed the lion in me, and as you know I was sorted into Gryffindor. I was so shocked I ran off with the hat still on my head!’

Neville laughed again and took another swig of his drink.

‘Slytherin’s not a bad house. I’ve known many great wizards and witches who were in Slytherin, and I’m sure you’ll be great too once you get settled. It took me seven years to finally feel comfortable here, and here I am still. Everyone is different, Al. You are your own person.’

‘Scorpius said that to me too,’ sniffled Albus.

‘Then you should listen to him,’ smiled Neville. ‘I’d better go make my excuses. I need to plan next week’s lessons. Write home, Albus. Let them know how you’re doing.’

Neville Longbottom set down his glass on a passing tray and disappeared back into the crowd.

Albus found Scorpius by the side of the piano. He was standing a little away from Sanguini the vampire, with an odd, melancholic expression on his face.

‘Are you all right, Scorpius?’ said Albus, quickly dabbing at his eyes and trying his best to sound cheerful.

‘Yes, I was waiting for you. I think it’s time we left, don’t you?’

‘Leave? I thought you’d want to stay a little longer. Meet some people, mingle with celebrities. What’s wrong?’

'N – n – nothing’s wrong, Albus,’ stuttered Scorpius. ‘I’m just tired, that’s all. And we’ll need to be well-rested if we want to source all our potion ingredients tomorrow.’

‘If you say so,’ shrugged Albus. ‘I’ll just say bye to James and Rose first.’ Scorpius went and waited by the door while Albus tried to find Rose. He eventually found her talking to a tragic-looking house-elf with yellow, mottled skin. Rose looked shocked to see him.

‘I just came to say we’re going now,’ he said quickly.

‘Going? It’s still early, Al. Professor Slughorn said we don’t need to start leaving until eleven.’

Rose took a step back, almost knocking the poor little house-elf to the floor. She apologised, but the house-elf hissed and shuffled off.

‘It’s _him_ , isn’t it, Al? Is it him making you go?’ cried Rose.

‘Him who? You mean Scorpius? Well yes, he’s tired and wanted to go back to the common room and I – ’

‘You need to watch out, Al. People will start talking if you’re not careful.’

Rose grabbed Albus by the shoulders and marched him over to a quiet spot near to where Gwenog Jones had been signing autographs earlier.

‘You know they say Voldemort could enchant anyone? He had clever ways of drawing people in. He was able to trick people into serving him and forcing them to do his bidding and – ’

‘Rose! You’ve seriously got the wrong end of the wand here. You can’t possibly think that Scorpius is really the son of Voldemort, can you?’

‘I don’t know what to think, Al!’ she spat. ‘All I know is you’re never seen without him. You’re distant. Are you sure you’re not … ? You could always have Madam Pomfrey check you for hexes.’

Albus shook his head and sighed.

‘You know I thought we could be friends after tonight. Turns out I was wrong.’

Albus marched away furiously, forcing the packed room to part. He threw open the office door and left, closely followed by Scorpius.

They were glad to find that the other Slytherins had already gone to bed when they returned. The embers of the fire in the common room were fading fast, and the lights had been dimmed. Scorpius said something about having a headache and urgently needing to lie down between sniffles, but Albus wasn’t ready for bed just yet. Thoughts were whizzing about his head, and he needed time to mull them all over.

The absolute gall of Rose Granger-Weasley. Did she really think him so feeble-minded? Scorpius couldn’t be the son of Voldemort, he just couldn’t be. But then Rose wasn’t sure herself, and she was usually quite certain about things.

‘I won’t let her plant doubts,’ Albus thought to himself.

He picked up a quill from the desk against the window which looked out into the lake, and took a scrap of parchment from a pile. On it he scribbled:

_Mum and Dad,_

_Sorry for not writing sooner. Everything is great here. I’m slowly settling in._

_I’ve made friends with Scorpius Malfoy who I share a dormitory with. I think you’ll like him._

_Hope you are both well._

_From, Albus_

He folded the parchment carefully and placed it in an envelope with the crest of Slytherin printed on. Albus left the envelope on the desk, deciding to find his owl in the owlery the next morning and send it.  
~~~~

As he stepped down into the archway leading to the dormitory, Albus looked back at his letter and nodded assuredly. He hoped he would also discover what was troubling Scorpius tomorrow too.


	5. Hallowe'en

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hallowe'en arrives at Hogwarts. 
> 
> It's a sensitive time for many, not aided by the sudden disappearance of Scorpius Malfoy. 
> 
> The horrors come out at Hallowe'en.
> 
> #SaltyForAstoria

The weeks flew by and Albus struggled to believe he had been at Hogwarts for just short of two months. The time seemed to have gone in the blink of an eye, though it wasn’t for Albus’s pleasure or enjoyment of school. In fact, he hated it.

He remembered his dad once saying the castle was the first place he had ever called home. Albus did not agree. He longed for home; the comfort of his own bed, the familiar sounds and the safety of his room. Hogwarts even smelled differently. Everything was so dusty, stale and ancient to him. But at least Albus was now receiving regular letters from home, which was something.

Every day was the same. Repetitive, each day lazily rolling into one. Whispering, murmurs, and mumblings whenever he entered a room or went for breakfast each morning. Though his failure at flying was old news, Albus still felt under scrutiny in every class, like all eyes were on him always. It was as if they were waiting for him to fail to mock and humiliate him yet further.

The only good thing about Hogwarts was Scorpius. Apart from Victoire, Professors Longbottom and Slughorn, and a few of the other teachers, Scorpius was the only person who was always kind to Albus. Though they spent so much time together, Albus had still not discovered what had upset Scorpius at Slughorn’s party.

‘It was nothing,’ he’d mumble and smile, but it was clearly something, Albus could tell. Scorpius had been uneasy ever since the party. He was quieter and furrowed his brow more than usual. He didn’t seem as keen to answer questions in class either, though Albus knew he’d have known the correct answers. Without Scorpius’s hand shooting up in every lesson, Rose easily won every house point going.

When Slughorn sent out invitations for a second party after the Hallowe’en feast, Scorpius opened his nonchalantly, expressing to Albus that he didn’t really want to go, and Albus refused to go without Scorpius. Professor Slughorn seemed rather disappointed when they told him, but was more understanding than they had expected. He placed a hand on Albus’s shoulder and nodded before bumbling off.

On Hallowe’en morning the corridors were filled with the smell of baking pumpkin rising from the kitchens. It was a familiar, comforting scent for Albus, who was used to the smell at the Burrow. His Granny Weasley always held a dinner party every Hallowe’en, but this was the first time in his life that he wouldn’t be there. He envied Lily and Hugo, the two youngest, who’d be sitting carving pumpkins around the large table in preparation for that evening.

The Great Hall had been appropriately decorated by the time Albus and Scorpius arrived for breakfast. Two giant pumpkins had been placed on either side of the entrance, and a dozen or so live bats were flying about everywhere. Others were hanging on the mantelpieces and under the lanterns set into the walls. The four house tables had been decorated too. Real cobwebs had been draped over them, and the candles had been charmed into emitting a sinister, reddish glow.

‘I’m rather looking forward to the feast tonight,’ said Scorpius, helping himself to some bacon and toast. ‘The Hogwarts Hallowe’en feasts are said to be legendary. I remember my mother telling me about one when she was here. Old Professor Dumbledore invited a troupe of dancing skeletons to perform. They had a band, instruments – everything – made out of bones, of course. Probably an enchantment or conjuration or something – Dancing skeletons don’t actually exist, unless you count Inferi, but that’s not a particularly jolly thing to think about. I wonder if Professor McGonagall has anything planned.’

Scorpius seemed excitable that morning, perkier than he had been in recent weeks. It was noticeable, and Albus was glad he seemed back to his normal self.

‘I doubt it,’ said Albus, ‘McGonagall isn’t the cheeriest of people.’

Scorpius shrugged and took another slice of bacon as Aquila the eagle owl fluttered down. Attached to one of his legs was one of the small boxes wrapped in brown paper that Albus had come to know quite well. This one was tied with orange and black ribbon. The sweets and small note from his mother only cheered up Scorpius further, and he was more than happy to share with Albus. This time his mother had sent some exclusive Hallowe’en sweets from Honeydukes.

‘You all right, Albus?’

James had appeared and was already pulling up a seat opposite them. Ever since Rose had mentioned that everyone fancied him, Albus had started to notice the looks people gave James as he passed in the corridors. They giggled as he went, widening their eyes, and raising their eyebrows, or giving some other suggestive look. One of the girls from the party turned bright red when James flashed a smile in her direction, but she hadn’t noticed the brawny fourth-year boy just behind her.

‘Oh, hello, James,’ said Albus, taken a little by surprise. He swallowed. ‘I’m good, thanks. You?’

‘Yeah, good, thanks. I was just wondering what you’re thinking about Hallowe’en at Hogwarts so far. You’ll see tonight. The feast is nice, but it’s not home. Dad’ll be feeling it too. The Burrow won’t be as noisy without you and Rose this year, and we both know how much he prefers a full house on Hallowe’en.’

This was true. Hallowe’en was a difficult time for Albus’s dad. Granny Weasley had once confessed to only holding her dinner for his sake. Every year she filled the house with family, friends, and anyone else she could think of really; Hagrid, Teddy Lupin and his grandmother, the Longbottoms and the Scamanders usually. Professor McGonagall even went one year.

‘I’m missing home too,’ admitted Albus. ‘I hope he’s – I mean – I hope _Dad_ is all right.’

‘I’ll send him an owl from us both! I’d better go. Professor Clio’s been itching to give me a detention ever since someone set off a Stink Bomb in her office back in the first week of term. I wouldn’t know anything about that, of course, but best to stay in her good books – first Hogsmeade visit is this Saturday and I’ve been saving for Weasley’s all summer. The staff won’t know me there.’

James ambled off but stopped and turned when he was almost at the Hall doors, a wide grin on his face.

‘I bet the two of you really love Professor Clio’s lessons – because it’s Hissssstory of Magic,’ he laughed gleefully. Scorpius laughed too, and Albus couldn’t help but join in.

‘That was an awful joke, sorry,’ said James, who grinned on seeing Albus’s smiling face. ‘See you!’ he shouted as he ran from the Hall.

Scorpius raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

‘I suppose it’s a start,’ said Albus.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Albus, but don’t you think we should get a move on too? Charms starts in three minutes and Professor Flitwick said we might be able to start making objects fly this lesson!’

Albus had forgotten all about what Professor Flitwick had said. They had practised the wand movements in the last lesson.

He paired Albus with Rose. Her face twisted and she crossed her arms tightly as he set his book and bag down beside her. Scorpius was partnered with Adira Fairchild. He gulped.

Adira Fairchild was a pretty girl with long jet-black hair, usually draped effortlessly over her left shoulder. Her eyes were fiery-copper in colour, and they were nearly always narrow and cold. Whereas Polly Chapman was a churlish bully of a girl, Adira Fairchild looked downright wicked.

‘Now all, make sure not to forget the wrist movement we practised last lesson! Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick!’ squeaked Professor Flitwick. He was perched precariously on a tall pile of books. ‘The incantation is just as important! Remember children – Wingardium Leviosa. Practise! Practise!’ They all did, and when Professor Flitwick was satisfied he conjured up feathers on every desk for them to practise on.

Rose got her wand out first. She practised the wrist movement three more times, relaxed her shoulders and said confidently ‘ _Wingardium Leviosa!_ ’ Rose took great care in making the “gar” nice and long.

At once the white feather rose off the desk and into the air. Rose kept her wand trained on the feather as a wide grin broke out onto her face.

‘Oh, well done, Miss Granger-Weasley!’ cried Professor Flitwick. ‘Look, children, look!’ he said, applauding Rose a little too enthusiastically. He slipped suddenly and fell from the pile of books he was balanced on. Professor Flitwick hit the ground with a muffled thud, and let out a final tiny squeak as a dozen or so books toppled on top of him.

Rose and a few of the other first-years closest jumped up to help. They threw books aside until a very pale Professor Flitwick was revealed. His eyes were jammed shut.

‘Is he dead?’ shrieked Polly Chapman, to a collection of gasps.

‘Of course he’s not,’ said Rose calmly. ‘He’s just knocked out. We need to take him to the Hospital Wing. Yann, Karl, help me carry him.’

They easily managed to get Professor Flitwick back onto his feet. He was dazed; his head wobbled as he staggered on the spot.

‘Peep kractising!’ he squeaked as Rose and the others took him away. ‘Fish and swick, children, fish and swick.’

A few of them did keep practising. Some of the feathers twitched and rose a few inches, but none went as high as Rose’s had. Her’s had hovered about four feet in the air.

Albus waited a few minutes before stuffing his books and wand back into his bag. He leant over the desk, laying his head on his folded arms, and let his eyes wander around the room.

Scorpius was successful in making his feather fly too. Albus estimated that it went as high as Rose’s, if not higher, but Albus wasn’t looking at the feather. There was something wrong with Scorpius. His cheeks and ears were tinged with red, and his lips had narrowed. So too has his eyes, in an unbroken gaze on the feather in the air. Beside him, Adira Fairchild was speaking in little more than a breath, her lips pursed in a twisted smirk. It was clear to Albus that Scorpius heard every word. Adira’s impish eyes flashed like fire.

Adira’s smirk grew only bigger when Scorpius turned to face her suddenly. He said something, which Adira laughed at.

There was suddenly a sharp crack, and Adira was thrown from her chair and onto the floor. The only thing to cushion her fall was the book-strewn floor, her smirk now long gone. Polly screamed and ran to help Adira to her feet.

Scorpius jumped up at once. ‘ _Wingardium Leviosa!_ ’ he called, and his books soared into his bag. He threw open the door just as the bell rang. Albus quickly followed.

‘What was all that about?’ said Albus when he had caught up with Scorpius. ‘What did Adira say?’

‘Same as usual. Son of Voldemort,’ said Scorpius, biting out each word. ‘Then she said – something – something about my mother – I don’t know what exactly – then something inside me snapped, I couldn’t stop it. What have I done – Oh, what have I done, Albus? I shouldn’t have lost control like that.’

‘Adira’s a bully, Scorpius. You stood up to her,’ said Albus. ‘I bet she’ll keep her distance now.’

‘No – no, Albus, you don’t understand. I’ve only made it worse,’ said Scorpius. He had almost broken out into a run.

‘If Adira does – anything – again you need to tell Professor Slughorn – or McGonagall,’ said a breathless Albus. He had to run to catch up with Scorpius.

Scorpius suddenly stopped in his tracks. He pulled Albus towards a portrait of a gaunt witch with six fingers. He paused.

‘Don’t you understand, Albus?’ said Scorpius. There was pain in his voice. ‘I’ve only fuelled the rumours.’

Scorpius paused again, taking a deep breath.

‘Now everyone’s going to think I’m like my _supposed_ father. Dark and evil and cruel. It’s going to spread around the school like Fiendfyre – and the rumours were already there. I’ve gone and fanned the flames. I can cope with all the whispering, sometimes I even trick myself into thinking they’re not talking about me, but it’s the stares, the panicked, scared, sometimes disgusted looks when I walk by. Some people won’t even look me in the eye, have you noticed? Scared that one look will turn them to stone, or worse. They’ll think I did it on purpose, that I meant to hurt Adira.’

The gaunt witch in the portrait let out a little squeal as Scorpius slumped back and bowed his head.

Albus wasn’t sure what to say. He looked around the corridor which had now emptied, and tried his best to replicate the concerned look his mother and Victoire sometimes showed him.

‘Come on. We’ll be late for class,’ mumbled Scorpius as he began lumbering off down the corridor.

As it turned out they weren’t late for class, but Rose, Yann and Karl were. They arrived five minutes late to History of Magic, and Rose quickly handed over a note to Professor Clio from Madam Pomfrey explaining their absence. Professor Clio was about to begin when Adira entered, looking a little dishevelled, closely followed by Polly. Adira’s hair was sticking out all over the place and the back of her robes were slightly crumpled and creased. Scorpius didn’t look up.

‘Yes, yes, come in. No further interruptions. Sit down, please, girls.’

Professor Clio furiously handed out a series of test questions on the Werewolf Code of Conduct. She believed the test would be easy for anyone who had paid proper attention since the start of term. Albus couldn’t be sure, but he thought Professor Clio’s eyes lingered on him a little longer than usual. Her eyebrows were raised. ‘You may begin,’ she said coldly and unblinkingly.

Scorpius went through the test quickly. He circled the correct answers and wrote lengthy paragraphs. He even had to a request a new sheet of parchment from Professor Clio. It would have been fine if Scorpius didn’t have such small handwriting. He finished the test in about ten minutes, meaning he had time to go back and add to his answers. Albus looked at him with utter disbelief.

Albus had only managed to circle a few answers when Professor Clio announced that the time was up. He was sure he had answered them all wrong, and many of them had been guesses. Professor Clio collected the papers with a wave of her wand.

‘Please turn to page three-hundred and sixty-two while I mark your papers, children. There you will find the chapter on Emeric the Evil. Read in silence, please.’

History of Magic was a boring subject in Albus’s opinion, but he found some of it surprisingly interesting. Emeric the Evil seemed to be an apt and well-earned moniker, Albus thought. The chapter was basically a list of all the many gruesome ways Emeric had killed his enemies in battle, until eventually he was slaughtered in a ferocious and bloody battle by Egbert the Egregious. Albus thought the end of the chapter was particularly interesting. It read:

 _Emeric the Evil then went to Stanley’s Hill in Somerset, where Egbert ruled from. Egbert proved to be a brutal opponent, and he too had a notorious reputation as a cruel and callous overlord._  
_Emeric quickly went about murdering Egbert’s guards and servants, many of whom were enslaved Muggles, and who would have been more than happy to see the deposition of their wicked and forbidding master. Emeric destroyed Egbert’s tower fortress with a crack of his wand, but Egbert was ready and waiting._  
_Some sources claim the two wizards duelled for three hours, others say five, but it is generally accepted that afterwards Egbert then retreated into his keep, the only part of the fortress left standing. He was a keen strategist, and had long before said that Emeric would come for him one day._  
_He had watched Emeric from afar, spoken to his few surviving enemies, and read accounts on his previous battles and duels. Egbert planned their eventual meeting meticulously. He knew Emeric’s bloodlust would get the better of him in the end, and patiently waited for the time when he would seek him out._  
_When Emeric finally reached the inner sanctum of the fortress keep, Egbert threw a goblin-made dagger at his enemy. Emeric was caught by surprise as he had no doubt been expecting a further war of wands, arrogantly believing him to have the superior magical knowledge and talent. The goblin blade drew no blood, but the hilt was made of solid silver. It was heavy, and hit Emeric on his temple, instantly knocking him unconscious. And so Egbert the Egregious claimed the Deathstick and with it brought a final, most evil and gruesome end to Emeric the Evil._

Albus looked up just as the lesson ended. Professor Clio got to her feet and looked around the room glaringly. There was a certain glint in her eye.

‘Class dismissed. You may all leave – except for Albus Potter,’ she said, glaring down at him.

Scorpius frowned and patted Albus on the shoulder as he packed up and left the classroom. Adira Fairchild was the last to leave. She grinned at Albus for some reason before closing the door.

Professor Clio glided across the room and settled in front of Albus. She moved like a ghost.

‘Tell me, Mr Potter,’ she began. ‘When asked to explain the broad issues which lead to the failure of the Werewolf Code of Conduct, do you really believe “because the werewolves didn’t like it” to be a worthy answer? It simply will not do.’

Albus opened his mouth to speak but Professor Clio cut him short.

‘Detention, Mr Potter,’ she snapped. ‘I’d like you to copy out the entire chapter about werewolves from _A History of Magic_ over your lunch break. You may start now.’

Albus rolled his eyes and groaned silently before starting to flick through the hefty volume. He soon discovered there were about thirty pages or more on the regulations of werewolves, and that wasn’t including the list of known werewolves and their victims, or the social and political stigma they have faced for centuries. He looked up and was met by Professor Clio’s steely, piercing gaze.

‘Is there a problem, Mr Potter?’ she asked sardonically.

‘No problem at all,’ Albus replied bitterly.

By the time lunch was over, Albus was only a quarter of the way though the chapter. Professor Clio only allowed Albus to leave when she was satisfied he would go without food until the feast that evening. She promised Albus that he could look forward to many lunchtimes spent with her until he completed it.

The Slytherin common room was empty when Albus went to drop his bag off. Tuesday afternoons were usually spent with Scorpius working on their Transfiguration homework in the armchairs by the fire, so he was shocked to not find him waiting there.

Albus set down his bad and took out his copy of _A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration_ , turning to the chapter on Switching Spells.

The theory of Switching Spells seemed rather complex and Albus found himself shutting the book almost immediately. He was sure that Scorpius would know, but he was nowhere to be seen.

There was a grinding noise as the common room door appeared out of the stone wall behind Albus, and in walked Craig Bowker.

‘Oh, hello, Albus,’ he said. ‘I forgot my Divination book.’

He swiftly ran down to his dormitory and came back holding a jet-black book with the image of a large crystal ball on the cover.

‘See you tonight, Albus!’ Craig shouted as he went.

‘Craig, wait!’ called Albus, making Craig stop and turn sharply. ‘Did you see Scorpius at lunch?’

‘No, now I think about it. I did wonder. I thought he was with you. I better go now. Professor Phineas won’t like it if I dawdle. Honestly, I wish I’d never taken Divination. Apparently, he _knew_ I’d forget my book, but he couldn’t be bothered to tell me, could he?’

Craig rolled his eyes and hurried out. Albus went down into his dormitory, setting his bag down at the foot of his bed. Scorpius wasn’t down there either.

He closely followed Craig out of the common room and headed for the library. Scorpius spent much of his time there, but when Albus arrived the only students were a group of fifth-years making revision timetables. They snickered from behind their books as Madam Pince peered from around a bookshelf, her large hooked nose curled in the air as if catching a whiff of something unpleasant.

‘May I help you?’ she growled. Albus quickly shook his head and left, refusing to turn his back on the scary librarian.

He next went down to see Hagrid, who looked startled to see him.

‘Sorry, Al,’ boomed Hagrid. ‘I’ve not seen ‘im. Maybe check the Hospital Wing – maybe he took ill?’

Albus said goodbye and hurried up to the Hospital Wing. The only patient was Professor Flitwick who lay snoring, while Madam Pomfrey muttered and fussed around him. She didn’t even notice Albus come in.

He racked his brains, trying to think of anywhere else Scorpius could be. This wasn’t like him at all. Albus started retracing their steps they had taken on their first weekend in the castle, everywhere in Hogwarts Scorpius had shown him, but he couldn’t be found anywhere. He wasn’t in the Owlery, the Astronomy Tower, or in any of the courtyards or cloisters.

Classes eventually ended, and students began filtering out and heading down to the Hallowe’en feast. Albus followed, keeping near the back, trying his best to spot Scorpius. More students joined the surge which carried Albus down the staircases and through the large doors of the Great Hall. There was much pushing and shoving as they divided off into their individual houses.

Albus looked down the Slytherin table, hoping to see Scorpius’s pale face peeking out, but he was nowhere to be seen. Craig, cheerful and smiling, sat down beside him.

‘Have you not found Scorpius yet?’ he asked.

Albus shook his head, craning his neck to get a look at the few straggling students still coming through the Great Hall doors.

The candle flames dimmed as everyone found their seats. Professor McGonagall got to her feet and started speaking, opening with a rare smile. She paused often to appreciate the applause, but Albus had no idea what she had said. Albus heard James whooping as the Hall buzzed with excitement. He zoned out, looking down the table again and again for Scorpius. He tried to concentrate his mind, thinking of any other possible place Scorpius could be, but there was nowhere he’d be than right there, next to Albus. He was giddy with excitement that morning, hoping McGonagall had arranged a Hallowe’en surprise. Scorpius wouldn’t want to miss it. Unless something terrible had happened to him.

McGonagall sat down as the feast appeared on the tables before them all. It looked splendid, but Albus didn’t feel like eating. He pushed his plate away while beside him Craig began tucking in to the pumpkin soup.

‘Albus!’ yelped a voice suddenly. Rose was standing beside him, trembling, her expression one of deep concern and worry. She actually looked quite ill. ‘You have to come, Albus. It’s Scorpius.’

Before Albus had time to think, Rose grabbed him by the sleeve of his robes and pulled him to his feet. She took his hand and ran, dragging him from the Hall. Head whipped around as they passed.

Rose didn’t stop running until they reached the third floor where she finally let go of Albus’s hand.

‘Why have you brought me here, Rose? Where’s Scorpius?’

‘Shh,’ she breathed, her eyes wide with panic. Her head suddenly snapped in the direction of a small door hidden away behind a bust of a long-bearded wizard. And that was when Albus heard it.

At first he couldn’t work out what it was. It was a sort of muffled, high-pitched squealing sound. It reminded Albus of the gnomes which frequented his grandparents’ garden at the Burrow. They made grumbling, yelping, groaning noises – but this was no gnome.

Albus ran to the door at once. As he got closer the squealing got louder, desperate to draw attention to the strange little door.

‘Help,’ it said. ‘Help.’

It was distinctly Scorpius.

The door would not budge. Albus tried again and again, panic quickly turning to frustration, but still the door would not open.

‘Al – Albus! Move – move aside!’ cried Rose. In the end she had to push him away. Her wand was out and pointed at the door handle. ‘ _Alohomora!_ ’ she shouted, tapping the lock. There was a click, and Rose turned the handle. The door swung open.

The room beyond was narrow, cramped and very dark. A strange shape lay on the floor. It took a second or two for Albus’s eyes to adjust, and when they did, he saw utter horror.

Scorpius was lying face-down, his green and silver tie stuffed into his mouth like a gag. His eyes, barely conscious, darted wildly between Albus, then Rose, the look of relief plain to see. Scorpius was tied to a broken wooden chair which had fallen close to the door. He had hit his head on the way down, his blond hair dyed crimson, all matted and congealed. His robes were ripped, one side draped over one shoulder, and his shirt beneath was soaked in the blood from the pool he was lying in.

Rose gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in shock, as Albus knelt down, removing the tie from Scorpius’s mouth.

‘Help – help me, Rose!’ Albus shouted.

Together they were able to get the chair upright. The ropes which tied Scorpius’s wrists to the back of the chair were magical, his hands bright-red and swollen from the pressure of the bindings. Scorpius winced in pain as Albus tried to pull them away, but they wouldn’t shift. It was as if they were stuck to the skin itself.

‘Rose – Rose, you have to do something. Help me, please. Help him! Do something. Please.’

‘I’m trying, Albus, I’m trying!’

Rose slashed her wand in the air furiously, but the ropes would not budge nor fall away. Rose was upset, her lips rapidly mouthing spells and enchantments Albus had never heard before. Albus looked down into Scorpius's pale face as his eyelids closed over his grey eyes.

‘Get out of the way – quick!’ suddenly bellowed a voice. Albus and Rose were forced apart as Professor Longbottom pushed between them, his wand held out straight. ‘ _Emancipare!_ ’ he shouted, and at once the ropes fell away, disintegrating into nothing.

Professor Longbottom helped Scorpius up from the chair, and finally Albus was able to get a good look at him.

Scorpius’s entire right side was covered in thick, red blood, which dripped from the large gash on his head. Some of it trickled onto the floor as he stood up. And Albus could smell it. It seeped up like a miasma, like a cloud of rancid copper. His nose was bloodied too; dried and scabby down his mouth, collecting under his chin and down his neck. There was something daubed on his forehead too, which dripped down in putrid green ink. It took a moment for Albus to decipher the writing.

_SON OF VOLDEMORT._

Professor Longbottom took him away quickly, half carrying him along the corridor, onto the staircases and into the Hospital Wing. Albus and Rose closely followed. Professor Flitwick had obviously recovered, and now the room was empty. He and Madam Pomfrey would be down at the feast. Professor Longbottom sent Rose to fetch her – quickly.

Under the clinical white candlelight, Scorpius was pale, much paler than usual. Professor Longbottom helped him onto a bed, pulling his ripped robes from under him. He neatly folded and placed them on the bedside table.

Scorpius was still dazed; his head fell as Professor Longbottom took it in his hands to look at the large slash. He frowned and shook his head, his jaw tightening almost mechanically.

A horrified Madam Pomfrey then came sprinting in with Rose at her heels.

‘Move aside, Professor Longbotton – MOVE!’

With a wave of her wand the door leading to the medicine store cupboard opened, and out sailed a dark bottle with a large red stopper in its top. Madam Pomfrey grabbed it mid-air, pulling out the stopper with her teeth. She tilted Scorpius’s head back and poured the entire potion down his throat.

She sighed and turned back to Albus, Rose and Professor Longbottom.

‘You got him here just in time. Notify his family, Professor Longbottom.’

Professor Longbottom gulped and nodded. He placed a shaky hand on Albus’s shoulder before leaving. He was almost as pale as Scorpius. He walked away with his fists tightly clenched.

Madam Pomfrey sent Albus and Rose to wait outside so she could tend to Scorpius further. The Hospital Wing doors closed behind them with a sharp snap.

Albus began pacing, thinking, a million different thoughts whizzing around his head at once. This must be how Scorpius feels, he thought. Rose had sat down. She was rocking, her hands clasped together. Albus turned to her.

‘How did you know where to find him?’ he said, struggling to remain calm.

Rose remained silent.

‘Rose! How di –’

‘I heard them bragging about it,’ she said quietly. ‘They told me when I asked.’

‘Who? You can say who it was.’ He paused. ‘It was Adira, wasn’t it? And Caleb. Who else? Yann? Polly? WHO ELSE?’

Rose jammed her eyes shut, but still her tears found a way out. She opened her mouth to speak again, but a sound from behind distracted them both.

It was the sharp clicking of heels on the ancient flagstones. Down the corridor charged a woman. Albus moved aside and Rose immediately jumped to her feet.

The woman was dressed in a smart cream suit, a silver brooch sat just to the side of its sharp black collar. Her dark hair was in a neat style, pinned back and fastened with a silver flower. She didn’t seem to notice Albus or Rose. The woman walked straight by them and into the Hospital Wing, the doors of which had seemingly burst open at her mere presence.

The woman did not slow down, and Albus and Rose followed her gingerly. She made a beeline for Scorpius’s bed, throwing open the curtains and covering her mouth with a white-gloved hand.

‘Mum,’ said Scorpius softly, bursting into tears. Astoria Malfoy went to her son quickly, cradling his bandaged head in her arms. She made soft, comforting noises in his ear as Scorpius closed his eyes and held his mother close.


End file.
